Keeper's Heart
by Red Bess Rackham
Summary: It's Oliver Wood's seventh and final year. He comes back to Hogwarts to see the same faces, but two unexpectedly catch his eye, and one begins to unexpectedly steal his heart. Takes place during POA. Entirely rewritten as of April '11. Complete.
1. Get Up and Go

**Disclaimer:** It's pretty much all JKR's and if you could see my bank account, you'd see I'm making nothing off of this piece of entertainment.

**A/n:** As of April '11, this story has been _heavily_ rewritten. So if you're one of these people who looks at reviews of a story, keep in mind they no longer match up _at all_, as chapters have been combined, shifted and replaced in this _massive_ story makeover (the very basic gist of it is the same, but it's been _heavily_ altered). Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the old version and to everyone who continues to do so. Thanks to anyone who stuck around long to read this new version and to anyone just coming upon it now. :)

**Timeline:** Takes place during Prisoner of Azkaban and more or less follows the book, but from Oliver Wood's perspective.

* * *

**Keeper's Heart**

**Chapter 1: Get Up and Go  
**

Oliver's alarm clock chirped harmoniously, waking him from a dream about pies and Quaffles. He was somewhat of a morning person however, and his body was used to getting up at this time of day during the week, so he didn't feel too annoyed at its cheerful noise. He slapped it off but spent several more minutes hunkered comfortably under his warm blankets. Morning person or not, his bed was bloody comfortable and hard to leave.

"Oliver?"

There was a sudden frantic rapping on his door.

"Oliver, get up!" His mother knocked a few more times before adding, "We have to leave for King's Cross in an hour if we want to beat the rush!"

"Yes Mum." He replied sleepily and eventually slid out of bed.

Today he was heading to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for his seventh and final year. It was a bit strange, surreal almost, to be packing his last minute items into his school trunk knowing this was the last time he would be leaving home for King's Cross to start a new semester at the school. He knew before he got there that he was going to miss returning each year, being with his friends, playing Quidditch for Gryffindor and everything else that went along with the school.

"Oliver?" His mother creaked open his door. "Are you-?"

"Up, yes."

"Are you-?"

"Packing, yes."

His mother sighed. "Well, do be quick dear, you've only got forty minutes for breakfast." She shut his bedroom door closed behind her and he could hear her down the hall trying to rouse his still sleeping father. He had to smile, because some things never changed. He was always up and ready to go, changed and packed, finished breakfast and usually killing time while his mother fretted and flew about the house and his father slept until the last possible second.

Then once they were in the vehicle driving to King's Cross, his father managed his usual start-of-term, do-good-this-year-and-make-us-proud speech in between frequent yawns. His mother interjected often, trying to determine that Oliver hadn't forgotten to pack anything important.

"You've got your robes?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Dress robes too, just in case?"

"Yes, Mum."

"And you be sure to keep your grades up, Oliver. I know that's never really been a problem for you, son, but – " His father droned.

"You've got your toothbrush?"

"Yes, Mum."

"School is just as important as play and as Quidditch. And speaking of Quidditch, Oliver – "

"All your books? Cauldron? Wand?"

Oliver chuckled at the pair of them. "Yes, Mum. And yes, Dad, I know."

"Right. 'Course you do."

Before too long (his mother finally satisfied he hadn't forgotten anything and his father having finally wrapped up all of school tips and fatherly advice for the year) they'd arrived at the train station. With the ease of routine, the three of them wasted no time in transferring Oliver's luggage to a cart and then proceeding to discreetly slide through the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. As soon as they'd arrived on the station, Katie Bell and Lee Jordan greeted him warmly.

"Good to see you, Wood," Lee smiled and shook his friend's hand.

"You too, Lee. Have a good summer?"

"Ah, the best."

"And you Katie?"

"Fairly excellent. Minus family drama and mishaps." She laughed and Oliver raised his eyebrow curiously.

"Really? Well, you'll have to fill me in."

Oliver's father had come back from loading Oliver's things on the train and gave his son a pat on the back. "All your things are loaded, son. Have a good year."

His mother wrung her hands then hastily pulled Oliver into a tight hug. "Have fun, sweetheart. And stay out of trouble, keep up with your studies, work hard – and owl us if you're staying at Hogwarts for the holidays." He squeezed her back, smiling. Really, it was nearly word for word what she'd said to him last year.

"I will, Mum, don't worry."

She pulled back emotionally, regarding him with a mixture of sadness and pride. His father laughed and put his arm around her. "We'll see you." He said and Oliver returned the farewell before waving to them and heading for the train.

Seconds after his parents had departed the platform, most of the Weasley clan came clambering and sprinting onto the platform just as the train gave a loud whistle to indicate last call for passengers. The twins, Fred and George, were first and rushed to join Oliver as he was climbing onto the train.

"Alright there, Oliver?" said George, panting slightly.

"Better than you – cutting it close, don't you think?"

"Ah, but it's more exciting this way. Besides, it happens every year – why break tradition?"

Oliver laughed and helped his friends with their luggage, down the narrow corridors on the train to the compartment he and Katie had already claimed. "But I thought you two weren't coming back this year? I seem recall a lot of big talk about not bothering anymore."

Fred shrugged. "I didn't much fancy being murdered by mother at such a young age."

"I'm too pretty to die." George dead-panned.

Oliver laughed again and the three settled into their compartment with Katie as the train pulled from the station.

* * *

The farther North the train went, the darker the clouds became and soon it began to rain. It was a soothing noise against the train windows that was unfortunately mostly drowned out by the activity in Oliver's compartment. Between Fred, George, Lee, himself and Katie playing games, telling stories, recounting their summers, coming and going to meet up with other friends, theirs was a very noisy compartment.

Around 1 o'clock, the lunch lady came around with her cart of food. The others had gone to see other friends or use the loo so Oliver was the only one left. He dug for some coins.

"I'd like a pack of Bertie's and – "

"Two pumpkin pastries?" the lunch lady finished for him with a grin.

"Yes ma'am."

"Seven years and you never change your order." The lunch lady laughed; a warm, deep laugh from her belly. "You sure you won' try somethin' new? It's your last year, innit?"

"Yes." Oliver answered then surveyed her cart. "Alright, I'll take two chocolate frogs too."

"Ooh, adventurous choice, lad." She winked at him with another laugh and exchanged him the candy for his money. He thanked her and she trundled off to serve other compartments.

As he began sampling some of Bertie's Every Flavour beans (lime, marshmallow, then dirt), his thoughts turned to the year of school that lay before him and his stomach turned with nerves. His last year of school - and then what would he do? Of course, his wish was to go the route of a professional Quidditch player, but suppose he couldn't get on a team? What career path could pursue then?

He gave his head a shake, trying not to worry about it - he still had a full year to sort things out, there was no need to stress just yet.

Oliver had just finished enjoying his pumpkin pastries and stashing his candy for later when the door to his compartment slid open again. Thinking it was one of his friends returning, Oliver began,

"Hey, you just missed –" He stopped short when he saw not one of his friends, but in fact someone he would refer to as his enemy: Marcus Flint, Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team.

"How was your summer, Woody?" said Flint, using a nickname he knew Oliver hated.

"Like you care. What do you want, Flint?" Oliver's tone was cool but full of dislike. He'd never got along well with Flint, and then they'd developed a serious sense of competition between them that only intensified when they each became Captain of their respective House teams. What started out as rubbing each other the wrong way in class or in the halls had turned into a deep-seated dislike, on and off the field. Oliver was a typically non-violent person who could keep his temper in check, though he found it difficult around Flint – someone whose face he often imagined punching.

"Work out any decent plays? Because you're sodding worthless team could use some."

"You're one to talk." Oliver shot back.

"I'm sorry, who _hasn't_ ever won the Quidditch Cup? That's right – you."

Oliver narrowed his eyes. "You should leave, Marcus. Right now."

Flint snorted. "Is that a threat? I'm scared, Wood. Really, I'm shaking. I'm just as scared of you as I am your pathetic excuse for a team."

"So, terrified then?"

"Please. Save it for the field, Woody." Flint fairly spat then backed out of the compartment.

Oliver shook his head and stared out at the rolling scenery which was blurred by the rain. No, he hadn't won the Cup – not yet. It had to happen. This was his year, he was sure of it. It had to be. It was his last year, he wouldn't – _couldn't_ – lose. Couldn't leave Hogwarts after being the Captain for the majority of his time there, and never having won, and he couldn't stand to see Flint's face or hear his remarks either.

He glanced at his bag where he had a rather tattered notebook where he constantly sketched out Quidditch plays and moves, some to later try out, some to just work out in his head. _I do have some decent plays, in fact, Flint_, he thought with a smile. _We'll see who's the cocky one after I take you down with some of them_.

* * *

**A/n:** For the record, I'm still not super happy with this story as a whole, but I feel it is a _vast_ improvement over the old version (plus at this point I think no matter what I do I won't be happy with it, haha). It's now officially complete, so I can move on to other things. Yay! Thanks for reading, reviews are like oxygen.


	2. The Train Ride

**A/n:** Quick note here before we get going: canonically, Katie is not in Oliver's year, but I wrote her as such seeing as how I didn't love the idea of surrounding Oliver with a bunch of OC's in all his classes.

* * *

**Chapter 2 - The Train Ride  
**

Oliver was engrossed in reading _Quidditch Through the Ages_ when Katie and her friend Denise from Ravenclaw came practically barrelling into the compartment, startling him so much he nearly dropped his book.

"Sorry Oliver," Katie winced. "Lee brought his tarantula again this year and brought it out in the middle of the bloody hallway."

He chuckled. "I understand."

She eyed the green book in his hand then raised her eyebrow. "Haven't you already read that like a hundred times by now?"

Oliver nodded and then shrugged sheepishly. "Well, it's good. I've taken it out so many times that finally last year Madame Pince just let me keep it and she said she'd get a new copy for the library."

"And you don't have your own copy because…?"

"I do now!"

Katie shook her head with a smile and then turned to talk to Denise, as Oliver continued reading his book. It was true, he likely had read it a hundred times by now, enough that he could probably recite passages on command, but he still enjoyed reading it. He didn't know what it was, exactly. There were other Quidditch books, longer ones, ones that focused on the theory behind the sport, biographies of famous players, in depth how-to's and tip books – he'd reckon he'd probably read most in existence by now at least once, if not more. Perhaps it was that this book was one of the first he could remember reading and somehow it just never seemed to get old.

The clouds outside the train became darker and darker and it began to rain harder. Angelina came to join Oliver and the other two girls, and shortly after that, the lanterns in the train came on. It was an unusual occurrence but a welcome one since Oliver had been using his wand as a book-light for quite some time. There seemed to be a competition of sound going on between the train rattling, the rain smacking against the windows and the wind roaring around the train. The girls had to raise their voices accordingly to hear one another and Oliver briefly tuned into their conversation.

"They said that a hotline has been set up and that any sighting of Black is supposed to be reported immediately." Denise was saying.

"Wow, so they even told the Muggles about him?" Angelina's eyes were wide.

"What's this?" asked Oliver, interested.

"Sirius Black," said Katie. "You know, that messed up bloke who blew away a bunch of people with one curse a while ago?"

He nodded.

It had happened a long time ago; Oliver himself had only been about 4 or 5 years old at the time and naturally hadn't been aware of any of it. He had in recent months, however, heard and read much about Black's escape from Azkaban and how he was dangerous and on the loose. It gave him the creeps thinking about it and how exactly this scary, evil wizard had managed to escape from the famous wizard prison, which was said to be guarded by hideous creatures called Dementors.

"Denise was just telling us that they're even warning Muggles about him," said Angelina.

Oliver was about to reply when he realized the train was beginning to slow down. In confusion, he glanced out the window, where it was so dark it looked like night time.

"Are we there already?" Angelina stood and tried to peer out the window, but couldn't see much of anything.

Katie opened the compartment door and leaned out to see what was going and Oliver could hear unsure chatter as many others did the same. The train then suddenly slammed to a halt, sending luggage flying off the racks in the various compartments. Oliver lurched forward with the train and his own heavy suitcase came down on top of him. Before he could stand and extricate himself, the lanterns winked out, plunging everything in darkness.

The three girls and Oliver all tried to return to their seats, all talking and shouting at once, trying to be careful how they moved but not succeeding.

"What's going on?"

"Ow!"

"Sorry!"

"Did we break down?"

"What's happening?"

"I don't know – "

"Is that you, Katie?"

"OW!"

"Sorry!"

As Oliver managed to be seated again, he could faintly make out Denise as she wiped her sleeve on the foggy window.

"S-something's out there…" she whispered, silencing the other two girls who'd been snapping at each about stepping on one other's feet.

The compartment had been cold before, but not to the level that it quickly became in that moment. It was like being plunged under ice water, shocking and instantly frigid. The cold seemed to crawl inside Oliver, touching his very soul, _penetrating_ and overtaking…

His teeth were chattering uncontrollably and he'd never felt anything like this before. He was outwardly and inwardly cold, and he could only think about horrible things, bad emotions, terrible deeds and selfish thoughts. Death, shame, regret, anger, greed…

A tall, unfamiliar figure slowly glided into view outside their open compartment, slowed to a stop, leaned in…

_Slytherin was holding the Cup… Flint was smug, pointing, hurling insults and wallowing in his glory…_

There was a deep, cold, shuddering noise…

_Death, shame, regret, anger…_

_He was shouting at his parents… he was cheating on a test because he hadn't studied and he couldn't fail… he was talking badly about friends, about family… he called Maria his sister and she cried…_

He closed his eyes, trying to shut out what he was thinking, what he was seeing. Cold, icy sweat formed on his forehead and he feared he was frozen solid to the seat, he imagined he was blue… _why is it so cold?_

_His mother lay on a hospital bed, dying from a car accident… his parents fought and argued… the Bludger smashed him in the face and the pain, oh _Merlin_ the pain…_

_Maria, the girl down the street, missing… missing… still missing…_

The figure moved on, ever so slowly.

Though he hardly felt able, a few minutes later, he managed to open his eyes and he started breathing again. It was as if the air had frozen in his chest and he'd only just become unfrozen enough to breathe. He thought he could see puffs of breath before him, or perhaps he was just imagining it. The cold in the compartment refused to leave and it was still completely dark.

He realized someone was crying but he couldn't talk yet – he was still _so cold_. The floor began to shake and the train began to move a moment or two later. The lanterns came back and finally Oliver thought there was a little warmth in the room, though he couldn't be sure. Katie, Angelina and Denise all had tear-streaked faces to varying degrees and looked as awful as he felt. Katie was hugging herself tightly, teeth chattering and Denise was shivering. None of them, it seemed, could shake what they'd just experienced nor did they have the words to ask each other _what_ exactly had just happened.

A man in what looked like hand-me-down robes knocked on and leaned into their compartment. "You kids alright?"

Denise hiccoughed.

The man was holding several chocolate bars and he broke off a piece for each of them. "Here," he said as he handed them each a piece. "This will help you feel better – takes the edge off."

As soon as Oliver had bitten into his piece, warmth flooded his body. This time it felt like he'd been submerged in a perfect bubble bath.

"Wow," Katie remarked upon eating hers, as color rushed back to her previously deathly pale face.

The man gave them a smile and moved to hand out chocolate to the next compartment but Oliver stopped him.

"Wait, sir!"

"Yes?"

"Thank you very much. Who are you?"

"Professor Lupin. I'll be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year."

Oliver gladly shook the professor's hand. "Thank you again, Professor."

"You're quite welcome. We'll be arriving at Hogwarts quite soon, so I would suggest you ready yourselves. If you'll excuse me, I need to distribute the rest of this." The professor smiled kindly and left them.

"Does anyone else find it funny that he has literally a stack of chocolate bars?" Angelina smiled.

"Guilty pleasure?" Katie shrugged. She glanced at Denise who was still shaking a bit. "Finish your chocolate, Denise, you'll feel loads better."

The girl nodded numbly and slowly finished her piece, immediately looking much better.

"What was that thing? What happened to us?" Angelina asked uncomfortably a moment later as the four of them gathered and sorted out the fallen luggage splayed across the compartment floor.

"I think… that was a Dementor." Oliver answered.

"You mean the things that guard Azkaban?"

He nodded sombrely. "I've only ever read about them, but I've read that they suck the happiness out of you – that's definitely what happened to me. That's why Azkaban is such a horrible place. I've no idea what it was doing here of all places, though."

The girls stared at him, frightened and worried.

"I could be wrong." He added hastily a moment later.

An uneasy silence followed until the train pulled into the station and they were able to distract themselves with getting their things and clambering off the train with everyone else. Once out on the platform, Oliver immediately wished to be back on the train, which was saying something considering what they'd just been through. Besides being warmer, it certainly would've been dryer. The rain was pelting down hard, drenching everything in a matter of seconds as the winds swirled it around in icy sheets.

Oliver joined the throng of students pushing quickly to get away from the station and into the horseless carriages that would carry them up to the castle. Over the heads of the other students, he caught a glimpse of Hagrid the groundskeeper calling for and gathering up first years for their traditional ride across the lake. He did not envy the ride they were going to take in such miserable weather as he climbed into a carriage with Angelina, followed by Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff.

"Lovely weather we're having," Cedric smirked.

"Smashing." Oliver chuckled.

The carriage pulled them steadily towards the tall wrought iron gate and Oliver uncomfortably noted two hooded figures like the one from the train standing guard. He was fairly certain this time that they were in fact Dementors, and he wondered why in the world they were not at Azkaban where they belonged. He swallowed and stiffened as that horrible inner cold began to seep into the carriage as they passed by.

Once they were past it and his breathing had returned to normal, he asked Cedric, "Did it come to your compartment too?"

Cedric nodded.

The carriage began to move a bit faster as it made its way down a long, sloping path to the castle. Oliver relaxed a little upon seeing the bright welcoming glow emanating from its tall windows. As soon as their carriage came to a stop, Oliver, Angelina and Cedric disembarked quickly and made for the stairs leading up to the Entrance Hall. They hurried through the gigantic oak doors with many, many other students all scrambling to get out of the freezing cold rain.

* * *

**A/n:** Thanks for reading! Reviews are the bubbles in champagne - they make it so much better. ;)


	3. Last First Day Ever

**A/n:** I realize probably not every student looks at Hogwarts as their home away from home like Harry does, but I tend to think Oliver does, though obviously not to the same degree as Harry.

* * *

**Chapter 3 - Last First Day Ever  
**

The Entrance Hall was brilliantly lit with wonderful glowing torches and Oliver couldn't help but smile at the familiarity of it all. His home away from home, the place where he learned nearly everything he knew, his second family. It was all here waiting for him, just like it was every year. He glanced only briefly at the marble staircase leading to the upper floors, thinking about how much he was looking forward to returning to Gryffindor Tower.

He moved with the crowd into the Great Hall and then moved to find at a seat at the Gryffindor table. He sat opposite Fred and George and spared a glance at the enchanted ceiling, which depicted a very angry, stormy sky. A thousand or more candles floated and burned brightly over everyone's heads and then a hush fell over the Hall as Professor Flitwick set down the stool atop which sat the Sorting Hat.

As it began its annual song, Oliver thought about his own Sorting Ceremony, seven years ago, hardly daring to believe it'd been that long ago. He'd been _so_ incredibly nervous! Short, skinny, shaking like a leaf with his teeth chattering uncontrollably – that'd been him. He imagined nearly every first year had the same nerves and big imagination as he'd had.

The Hat finished its song and Oliver joined in the applause. The poor shivering and soaking wet first years took their turn one by one at being sorted, and he once again was thankful his own boat ride across the lake had not been plagued by the fierce wind and rain these first years had had to endure. "Adel, Holly" was sorted to Slytherin to start things off and then down the list they went. "Honeycut, Benjamin" became Gryffindor while "Parker, Gilda" was sorted into Hufflepuff. Finally the sorting ended with "Zacardny, Alice" heading to Ravenclaw and "Zbacknik, Miles" being sent to Slytherin.

As Professor Flitwick took the stool and the Hat away, a wave of whispers went up around him as a few people pointed to the door. Oliver looked up at the small commotion to see Hermione Granger and Harry Potter attempting to discreetly make their way to Ron Weasley, Fred and George's younger brother, who'd saved them some seats. Oliver then realized it wasn't just his table that was whispering and pointing. In fact, those who looked confused or ignorant of what was going on, himself included, seemed to be the minority.

"What's going on?" he asked the twins.

"Poor kid," George said quietly. "Collapsed on the train when the Dementor came by."

"He… fainted?" Oliver whispered.

The twins nodded. Oliver wanted to ask them more about what exactly had happened when Professor Dumbledore stood. The whole of the Hall hushed immediately. The old man looked at the students through small half-moon shaped glasses and smiled softly, emanating an indescribable and wonderful energy.

"Welcome!" He held out his arms and the candle light all around seemed to bounce off his silvery hair and beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it is best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast..."

Dumbledore cleared his throat and went on, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express," - Oliver, along with many other students, shivered at the memory – "our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business." He paused and Oliver immediately got the feeling that Dumbledore wasn't exactly pleased with this arrangement and he silently agreed.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," the Headmaster continued. "And while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises - or even Invisibility Cloaks. It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the Prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the Dementors." He paused again and looked very seriously around the Hall.

Oliver glanced around, wondering who had been named Head Boy and Girl, when his eye caught on the ever pushy Percy Weasley, one of Fred and George's older brothers, chin upraised, looking around importantly. There was a bright, shining badge attached the front of his robe and Oliver couldn't help a small eye roll. He'd often clashed with Percy over little issues and though he could objectively admit that Percy was an intelligent fellow, he also had a knack for being condescending, pompous and haughty. He could only imagine how irritating Percy was going to become with that big fancy new title on his head – "Prefect" had been insufferable enough as it was.

"On a happier note," Dumbledore carried on. "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. Firstly, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." There was a polite smattering of applause and Oliver was surprised at the lukewarm reaction, given how Lupin had helped so many on the train following the Dementor's visit.

"As to our second appointment, I'm sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs." Laughs and chuckles went around at the last comment. "However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

The Gryffindor table practically erupted with applause, followed closely by the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. The Slytherins groaned and growled but the positive noise quite overpowered their protests. Hagrid was a good-hearted, well-meaning man who was kind and generous and Oliver for one was looking forward to having him as a teacher. He whistled with his fingers, Fred and George stood on the bench, Ron pounded the table and the Gryffindors were easily the last to stop clapping, mostly because their arms grew tired. When the last of the applause finally died away, Hagrid was wiping his eyes with the tablecloth.

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore. "Let the feast begin!"

The golden plates and goblets before them instantly filled with magnificent looking food. Oliver grinned and wasted no time in piling his plate with his favorites. Everything tasted just as wonderful as he remembered and he savored it – this was his very last first day, after all.

In between mouthfuls, Oliver and the twins talked about Quidditch and the upcoming season. He had worked out some moves for them and the rest of the team to try. He'd been studying some old footage from past World Cups, too, and discussed those with the twins as well as Angelina, who was on his right and began joining in the conversation.

"George and I worked on the Dopplebeater Defense over the summer," said Fred and took a swig from his goblet.

"Brilliant. How's it working?"

"We've got it down pretty good, actually," answered George. "We can hit it at the same time now, and we managed to hit a target almost 30 feet away."

Oliver raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Really? You were only managing, what, 10 or 15 before?"

"If that," Fred nodded.

"That's really good! You'll have to show me."

The conversation stayed fairly sports and Quidditch related until it was nearly time for dessert. Quite full, Oliver leaned back slightly and took a moment to gaze around the Hall and listen to the collective noise. The Hall was filled with the clatters of forks and knives, talking, laughing, movement and eating…. It was strangely calming but once again, wonderfully familiar. He was really going to miss all this.

_Plenty of time to be sad about this all ending,_ he thought. _This is only the first day!_

As the remains of the meal melted away, the chatter slowed slightly. Oliver's eye caught on the Slytherin table, where groups of students were huddled together in tight groups, leaning in, voices low and some would glance in the Gryffindors' direction. He wondered what they were up to and shook his head. Thoughts of Slytherin were banished as soon as dessert appeared and the general noise level in the Hall was cranked back up a few notches.

All too soon for Oliver, though he felt so full he could very well explode at any moment, the feast was over and the dessert melted away. Dumbledore gave them the word to head to bed, and head they did. Full as he was, he felt very content and warm, the horribleness from the Dementor experience on the train very far from his mind.

As he exited the Hall with the other students all heading to their respective dormitories, a small knot of Slytherins rudely shoved past him, jostling him sideways into a trio of different Slytherin girls. He sent a quick glare after the rude group who'd shoved him and had opened his mouth to apologize to the girls on his left that he'd bumped into as a result, but the one girl spoke – or shouted, rather – first.

"Hey, watch it!" she snapped, her cheeks flushed.

"Sorry, it wasn't my fault, I – "

"I don't care whose fault it was, _you're_ the one who stomped on my toes. So just get out of the way, clobber-foot."

Oliver straightened. "_Sorry_." He repeated.

She glared at him angrily. "Look at you! You're like a foot taller than me and built like a sodding brick wall! I could've been seriously injured."

He would've laughed had he not been quite irritated by her. "Relax, I barely touched you."

She pressed her small, full lips into a thin line and then turned away from him. Because of how the crowd was moving, Oliver needed to head to the left towards the marble staircase, while the girl beside him in Slytherin robes would need to head right in order to move towards her dormitory. He was going to step back and graciously let her through, though she hardly deserved it after how rude she'd been to him, when she abruptly gave him a shove to get past him.

"Hey, what's your problem!" he said and hastily stepped in front of her to block her.

"I need to get to my dorm – _that_ way."

"How about trying the words _excuse me, please_?"

She tossed her long black hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms over her chest. "Excuse me, you oversized _git_, let me through before I _make_ you move, _please."_

Wisely sensing this was a battle he was never going to win, and quite lacking the energy to try, Oliver glared back at her and then moved out of her way. She tossed him one last angry look before roughly pushing past him.

_Seriously,_ he thought with the shake of his head. _I didn't _do_ anything._

By the time he'd made it upstairs to the portrait up the Fat Lady with the others, he'd forgotten all about the rude Slytherin girl and was very much ready for bed. He yawned widely as Percy came weaving through the gathered Gryffindors.

"Coming through, coming through! The new password is _Fortuna Major_."

_Fortuna Major,_ Oliver mentally repeated to help himself remember.

The Gryffindors filed in and Oliver wasted no time ascending the stairs straight to the dormitory that had been his home for the previous six years. As he dressed in his pajamas and collapsed under the covers, he was very, very glad to be back.

* * *

**A/n:** For anyone who is curious, it seems the UK uses both metric and Imperial like Canada, with little to no consistency. Based on my own experience, people tend to use feet when talking/describing, so I had the boys do so when they were talking about Quidditch. 30 feet is roughly 10 meters, and 10 to 15 feet is roughly 3 to 4 meters. Just in case those of you who have no idea what a meter is were wondering, or if anyone was going to point at that Britain is technically on the metric system. Too much irrelevant information? Eh, probs. Thanks for reading!


	4. Unfortunate Schedule

**A/n:** Yup, this story is progressing slow. That is very much the point – slow burn, baby. Wait and see. Lastly, since the students have exams twice in the book, I assume that there are two semesters, one ending roughly at the end of January, the other the usual June area.

* * *

**Chapter 4 - The Unfortunate Schedule  
**

When Oliver entered the Great Hall for breakfast the following morning, he noted with a frown that many of the Slytherins were roaring with laughter. Usually when that lot was happy it meant someone else was miserable, humiliated, or about to be. He shook his head and ignored them, settling down at the Gryffindor table. He waved in greeting to Fred, who was talking with George, Ron, Harry and Hermione. As he began eating some cereal, he read carefully over his seventh year timetable for the semester.

He had Charms first with Ravenclaw, and then much to his dismay, he had Potions with Slytherin. He would give almost anything not to have to do Potions at all, let alone with Slytherin. This particular Potions class he was taking was in fact a "make-up" class. It was to be a mix of sixth and seventh years. The sixth years were students who struggled greatly in their fifth year and would be using this class to springboard them into their usual Potions classes the following semester, whereas the seventh years were basically retaking last year's Potions in order to advance properly to regular seventh year Potions, also next semester.

He groaned aloud, shaking his head.

"What is it?" Lee, seated beside Oliver, leaned forward to look at Oliver's timetable.

"I've got to retake Potions with _bloody Slytherin._" He answered dismally.

Lee whistled and winced. "Ouch – that's awful, mate. I don't have mine until after lunch, and I'm with Hufflepuff."

Oliver sighed, greatly wishing was in Lee's class instead. Though a year apart, they were good friends and shared in their struggles with, and their deep dislike of, Potions. He and Lee chatted more about each other's schedules and Oliver poured himself some more cereal. A short time later, Hagrid strode into the Great Hall, carrying a dead polecat. He stopped to chat with Harry, Ron and Hermione. As he turned to head up to the staff table, Oliver gave him a small wave, which Hagrid returned cheerily.

He was actually looking forward to Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class, though he fully expected Hagrid to go about it in his usual good-intentioned, blundering way. He was sure Hagrid would make a good teacher. He had a big heart and warm smile (buried somewhere in his huge, bushy beard) and if his usual way of caring for and interacting with the students on a regular basis rubbed off in his class, then all the better it would be.

Lee and Oliver were just about ready to start exiting the Great Hall with many of the other students. Oliver tipped his bowl to his mouth to finish the last of his milk, and before Lee was able to warn him, an arm "accidentally" bumped the back of his head just hard enough that his face splashed into his bowl, causing milk to go up his nose and into his eyes. He dropped the bowl and spun around, hastily grabbing a napkin. He expected to see Fred or George (or both) standing behind him, bowling over with laughter. It wasn't, unfortunately.

"Oops!" the Slytherin girl from the previous day covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. "Sorry, I must have _bumped_ you on my way by." Her smile, however, made it clear that it was most certainly not an accident – not that Oliver had believed her for a moment anyway.

Her eyes were dancing with amusement, just _daring_ him to retaliate. He wiped his face dry with the napkin in his hands, pointedly ignoring two other girls (he assumed were this one's friends) who were standing a few feet back snickering and giggling incessantly. Unbidden, he could hear his mother's voice in his head: _Turn the other cheek, honey. Don't ever sink to their level._

"No problem." He said sweetly. "I'm _sure_ was an accident."

She narrowed her eyes slightly and he could see her trying to decide how to react to him. In that moment, he realized she was fairly familiar. He was pretty sure she wasn't a seventh year or he probably would have recognized her sooner – he was certain she hadn't been in any of his regular classes before. Still, he must have seen her around from time to time.

"It _was_ a complete accident. So sorry, Woody."

He stiffened slightly. _Ah, _he thought. _She must have been talking to my good mate Marcus._

She quirked an eyebrow at him, challenging and slightly triumphant, before turning to go.

_Two can play at this game,_ he thought and immediately shot out his foot. He didn't know what made him do it. He wasn't the type to succumb to thoughts of retaliation – off the field, at least. Nevertheless, she clearly wasn't expecting any sort of retaliation either at that point, as she rather ungracefully stumbled over his foot and her robes, falling to the floor on her hands and knees. The two girls who'd been giggling and snickering before looked shocked and angry as they rushed to help their fallen comrade. She looked absolutely irate.

Her eyes weren't quite so merry now and her face was flushed a deep shade of red. "That was uncalled for, Oliver Wood."

He shrugged nonchalantly and stood to meet her angry gaze. "I'd say fair is fair."

"We'll see about that." She stormed away.

Lee laughed. "_Wow_ – what in Merlin's name was all that about?"

Oliver sat back down and turned sheepishly to his friend. "We had a bit of a run-in yesterday. I have a feeling she doesn't particularly like me."

"What was your first clue?"

He picked up a few more napkins to mop up the rest of the milky mess on the table and asked, "Do you know who she is, Lee?"

"You don't?" Lee raised his eyebrow.

Oliver shook his head. "I've seen her before, but I don't know what her name is."

His friend shrugged. "I'm pretty sure she's in my year, but…" He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Yeah, I don't remember, sorry."

"Fat load of help you are," Oliver teased.

"You should probably know her name if you're going to continue tripping her and running into her, don't you think?" He gave Oliver a slap on the back and then gathered his things to head off to class.

After cleaning the rest of the milk up, Oliver gathered his own things and followed suit. He spotted Professor McGonagall exiting up ahead of him. If anyone would know who she is, McGonagall would. He hurried to catch up with her.

"Professor?"

"Yes, what is it Wood? I don't have time to dawdle, I'm on my way to attempt to teach a group of rowdy first-years."

"I just have a quick question. There's this uh, Slytherin – er, there's a girl in Slytherin house, and I was wondering if you knew her name?" He wondered if he should be hurriedly fabricating some sort of lie as to why he couldn't find out on his own.

"You can't just _ask_ this girl what her name is?" McGonagall glanced at him with a hint of exasperation. _Students these days!_

"Er, well, you see…" He fought to come up with a decent excuse, outside of explaining his two rather unpleasant run-ins with her. "The uh, the thing is…"

She sighed. "Really, Wood. Just describe her, then."

"Er… dark hair – long, dark hair, dark eyes. Sixth year, I think," He was trying and failing completely to think of anything else he could say that would be helpful. Coming to McGonagall now seemed like a very dim idea.

"Dear me, could you possibly be more vague?"

He was just about to give up and figure it out on his own when as luck would have, the girl and her two friends from earlier were striding down the hall in the opposite direction, heading to class. Relieved, he quickly pointed her out.

"Hm," McGonagall sniffed. "You failed to mention 'rude' and 'provoking' in your descriptions."

Oliver stifled a laugh. He would have, but he'd thought the professor wouldn't have approved of his choice of words.

"That is Miss Audrey Lewis. Now may I be on my way?" she said sternly, indicating she was quite done with his nonsense.

"Absolutely Professor – thank you. Have a good time with those rowdy first years." He flashed a wide smile at her. Even when she was being short with him, he knew exactly how much she cared.

She gave him a tiny smile in return – for her, it was practically the equivalent of a wide grin. Though she would never admit to playing favourites, Wood had certainly been one of her favourites from the beginning. Her heart had gone out to the little, shivering child who sat on the stool being Sorted. Even then she'd had a feeling in her gut he'd become something really special – and her gut was never wrong. She'd grown fond of him over the years, and especially as his passion and talent for Quidditch grew. Her hopes of finally seeing the Cup back in Gryffindor's hands grew too. It still hadn't happened, but she hadn't lost faith yet. He would bring it home this year, she just knew it.

She felt a tiny pang of sadness, remembering this was to be his last year. She had watched him grow up, had taught him, coached him, even taken time out of her marking schedule to aide him after hours with Potions (something the poor boy had very little talent in). It seemed like such a short time ago that he was that little first year, shy to put his hand up in class…

"Professor?"

She jumped, slightly startled that she'd gotten lost in memories. She gave Wood a curt nod and hurried away, pretending the moment hadn't happened and that there was just a piece of dust in her eye, that was all.

Oliver watched her go and promised silently to keep the moment to himself. In the meantime, he was running rather late for Charms.

* * *

**A/n:** Thanks for reading, reviews are love. :)


	5. Exceeds Expectations

**A/n:** For the record, _I_ kind of like Percy. It's Oliver who doesn't get along with him (contrary to popular fanon, I know).

* * *

**Chapter 5 - Exceeds Expectations  
**

He rushed into the classroom in the nick of time, as Flitwick was starting almost right away. He took the only available seat left, unfortunately beside Percy Weasley. He figured this was probably why it was the last open space.

"Late as usual." Percy mumbled while continuing to feverishly jot down every single word Flitwick was saying, relevant to the lesson or not.

"Pay attention, you wouldn't want to miss one precious word. You might fail if you miss a 'the'." Oliver shot back in an undertone.

Percy glared briefly at him but otherwise didn't respond. Oliver began taking notes as well, though only wrote down key points or things he thought he would need to remember. Shortly thereafter, Flitwick sent the students to break into groups and pairs to complete the assignment he had given them. Seeing the first person who was his friend and not Percy, Oliver jumped up and hurried over to Katie and her friend Denise.

"Can I _please_ join you?" He pleaded with a subtle head nod in Percy's direction.

Denise muffled a giggle behind her hand as Katie said, "Sure thing. Pull up a chair."

Oliver snatched up his books and Percy looked slightly offended. "Oh, like you'd want to be my partner anyway."

The red-head huffed but didn't disagree.

Oliver settled himself beside Denise and the three of them chuckled to themselves. Percy glanced over his shoulder at them as if they were making a ton of noise.

"Disturbing your extensive note-taking, are we, Perce?" said Katie.

He didn't answer. The three looked on in surprise, however, as Penelope Clearwater came and seated herself in Oliver's previously vacated seat. The three had difficultly hiding their laughter after a few moments of dumbfounded silence. This earned them a few more dirty looks from Percy until he and Penelope became engrossed in the assignment.

"Penelope's sister is one of my friends. Apparently those two are a _thing _now_._"

Thinking of the Percy he knew (and his history with him), Oliver had a hard time imagining someone like Penelope, who came off as sort of aloof and mysterious, being at all into someone like Percy. The thought was suddenly very funny for some reason and he wasn't able to hold his laughter in.

"Try and keep it down, Mr. Wood!" Flitwick squeaked.

Oliver apologized and Katie further shushed him when his laughter threatened to overcome him again.

"It's really not that _wild_ of a notion, you know," she eventually said. "He is smart and all. He's just… dull as paint."

After more jokes at Percy's expense, the three finally got down to it and made short work of their Charms assignment. Following that, they were free to chat and chat they did, about the usual: who was dating who, who liked who but wouldn't admit it, what Sirius Black the escaped murderer was possibly up to these days, which Quidditch teams were doing well in the league, which ones weren't, who had a shot at the World Cup, which teachers were acting unruly lately and so on. The usual gossip, nothing ever of particular importance, until finally the end of class came.

It was with very great reluctance that Oliver packed his things, knowing that in a very short amount of time, the worst part of his day was about to come around.

* * *

He was already expecting the worst and yet the class still managed to exceed his expectations.

When he arrived, he discovered that the class was about half of the regular size and that there was no one he was particularly friendly with. There were a few Gryffindors, a couple Ravenclaws, and the rest were Slytherins. He chose a seat near the back beside a blonde with glasses, who was carefully studying her Potions textbook.

He quickly got out his things so he'd be ready the moment Snape came whooshing in. He'd attended enough of Snape's classes to know the man would jump on any excuse to dock a few points off a Gryffindor. He pulled the cork out of his ink bottle, set it on the corner of his desk, laid out some parchment and already had his quill at the ready, with his cauldron off to the side handily.

Just as the bell rang to signal the start of class, there was a loud swish of robes, but it was not Snape. Before he knew it, his ink bottle was knocked off the table onto the floor with a loud _SMASH!_ The glass and ink splattered and spread everywhere, splashing his robes, his shoes and all over the floor beside his desk.

Audrey didn't even bother with a fake apology this time. She gave him a mean smile and gracefully took her seat as collective laughter filled the room.

Oliver had no time to retort, however, as at that moment Professor Snape really did come sweeping into class in his usual foul mood – probably worse than usual since he was currently tasked with re-teaching the Potions screw-ups. He immediately spotted the mess in front of Oliver.

"What have we here?" he growled with a curl of his lip.

Oliver was aching to retaliate somehow but wisely remembered exactly whose class he was in. He glared at Audrey, who was still openly grinning, before turning glumly to Snape. Through clenched teeth, he murmured, "Accident."

Snape glanced in Audrey's direction and she stopped smiling. He seemed to gather the gist of what had just taken place, but chose to ignore it. "Clumsy. Three points from Gryffindor. And you'll be staying after class to clean it up – the Muggle way."

Various students snickered. Snape knew very well that the longer the ink was left there, the worse the stains would be become and the more it would dry, making it that much harder to clean.

"Yes, sir." He said as respectfully as he could, though there still was an edge to his voice. He sat back down stiffly and Snape walked briskly to the front of the class and began bellowing that day's notes.

The girl beside Oliver suddenly nudged him. "That was real awful," she said in a whisper. "Here, share mine."

"Thanks," He offered her a smile and dipped his quill in her bottle and immediately started taking notes and copying what Snape wrote down on the blackboard.

The rest of the class went about as well. He struggled to keep pace with everything Snape was teaching them and he constantly was trying to keep his eye on Audrey so there were no more "accidents". The only good thing was that she seemed to be having great difficulty with the assignment also and wasn't paying much attention to anything but her smoking cauldron. Snape actually even took three points from her and her two cronies for being so off course with their disastrous concoction.

When the end blissfully came, Oliver cleaned his cauldron quickly and hid his vial so Audrey could not sabotage him and waited until she was nearly out of the room before he brought his up and handed it in. He then set to work on cleaning the floor, with a whole lot of soap and rags. The ink didn't come off easily and Snape insisted several times that Oliver had missed a spot. Finally, almost an hour later, Snape declared the floor good enough and released Oliver.

He'd missed more than half of his next class by that point, so with a heavy sigh he made his way up to Gryffindor Tower to change out his soapy and ink-ruined robes. If he could just survive that horrible Potions class with Audrey in it, he was quite sure he'd be able to survive anything.

* * *

Unfortunately for Oliver, he had Potions not only once, but twice a week. Though his second class started out less disastrously, it didn't last long.

About halfway through the class, just as Oliver was carefully measuring out a tiny spoonful of powdered Moonstone, he noticed Audrey out of the corner of his eye a few rows up, leaning in to whisper to her friend though her gaze was trained on Oliver.

_Oh Merlin,_ he thought, swiftly setting down his moon dust. _What now?_

Like the ink incident, before he'd had a chance to react, she got to him first. The contents of his cauldron abruptly shot out and all over him. Thankfully they weren't working on anything dangerous or corrosive that day, but being covered in "Instant Downpour" was hardly ideal. Most of the class burst into loud laughter at the sight of Oliver, soaking wet with a small raincloud above his head. He silently fumed as Snape chastised him for his carelessness and opted to make him suffer the rest of the class cold and drenched under his rain cloud, listening to constant chuckles and snickers.

Oliver used to think he was a fairly patient person and had dealt with some extremely difficult or frustrating situations and people before. But nothing like this. He wanted so badly to get her back, to make her feel the humiliation he was feeling. He most of all, however, wanted to understand _why_ she had deemed it necessary to attempt to make his life miserable. All because of that little bump in the hallway?

At the end of class, everyone filed out, laughing openly at Oliver on their way by. Audrey was nearly last and had he not been so incredibly angry with her, he would have noticed the apologetic look on her face as she passed him and the way her hair was pulled back in a braid, making her dark eyes really stand out. As it was, however, he was in no mood to notice anything except Snape sauntering towards him with a smirk and an antidote.

"Perhaps this will teach you to be more careful with your measuring, Wood."

Oliver took the antidote which made the raincloud dissipate and stormed from the room without another word.

* * *

"I promise you," he moaned. "It will absolutely be the death of me."

Katie and Denise laughed.

"It _does_ sound downright awful," Denise eventually said comfortingly.

Oliver kept his head on his arms which were crossed atop the desk he was seated at. "I won't go to another sodding class. No one can make me."

The girls shared an amused look before Katie said, "Actually, any teacher can make you. And I doubt Snape would be too pleased if you skipped."

Oliver sat up with a heavy sigh. "S'pose that's true enough – he'd have no one else to berate and belittle constantly."

"He does that to everyone - don't think you're so special." Katie teased.

Oliver smiled a little at his friend's attempt to cheer him up.

"Why are you taking that class again, anyway? It's not like you need a good mark in Potions to become a great Quidditch star or something."

He grimaced. "I know that. But there's no guarantee I _will _become one, is there? I have to cover my bases. I need as many top marks as I can get so I'll have my options open."

"Oh Oliver," Denise shook her head. "Always the humble and practical one. Like there's any way you _won't_ become a great Quidditch star."

He smiled a little wider this time, hoping she was right. It was of course what he wanted to do, after all – what else _was_ there? Quidditch was his passion, his love, it was everything to him. He couldn't imagine his life without out it at this point. But still, he always had niggling doubts in the back of his mind that he wasn't good enough. Sure, he could make it at Hogwarts, but the real world? That was a totally different story.

"Just trying to make sure all my bases are covered is all." He repeated.

"Well, if you _insist _on re-taking Potions like a good boy," Katie cocked her head at him. "Then I suppose you'll have to work hard and suffer through it like a good boy too."

"You're telling me not to get her back, aren't you?"

Katie snorted. "Oh no, that's not what I said at all. You _must_ get her back – after the things she keeps doing? You _have_ to get her back. Just don't do it where a teacher can see you." She winked mischievously. "Besides, aren't you good friends with a certain pair of, how do I put this… _creative_ red-heads?"

* * *

**A/n:** Thank you for reading – reviews much appreciated!


	6. Dear Diary

**A/n: **Bit on the short side this one, but they will get a bit longer. This here is a bit of set-up. Lastly, I've noticed I switch constantly between British/Canadian spelling and American spelling - I've done my best to be consistent with the British/Canadian, but if you catch errors or ones I missed something, let me know! :)

* * *

**Chapter 6 - Dear Diary  
**

"These ones will be sure to do the trick," said Fred, holding out a small package of round pellets that resembled cinnamon candies.

"Of course, _these_ are a good alternative if you can't get her to eat anything." George held up two little spray bottles that looked like perfume but Oliver doubted were anything remotely similar.

"We of course also have a small list of homemade spells, though we can't guarantee results with those."

"Lastly we can just prank her the old fashioned way."

Oliver raised his eyebrow, considering the perfume bottles. "And all your, er, products have been tested and are safe? I don't want her to end up in the Hospital Wing or something."

The twins exchanged glances.

"Ah, best not go with these then." Fred put away the box of pellets.

"Really depends on allergies and tolerance, for these here." said George but proceeded to put away the perfume bottles as well.

"Is this all you have?"

"At the moment, yes," answered George.

"Nearly everything is still being, er, tested." Fred winced slightly, touching the large welt on his right cheek. George gave his stomach a rub as if feeling nauseous.

Oliver chuckled. "I'm not even going to ask."

"Best not to." Fred agreed.

"Alright, what if you could just… you know, find out things about her?" Oliver shrugged, not knowing what he'd do with any information the twins managed to find out.

"That we can do, mate, that we can do."

He didn't bother to ask how.

* * *

_Dear Diary,_

_I really need to figure out something else to start with. 'Dear Diary' sounds so silly, but I suppose it serves its purpose, so whatever._

_I haven't written for a long time but tonight I just couldn't fall asleep, so I thought I'd try getting my thoughts out on paper. Hoping it'll help clear my head a bit so I can get some sleep._

_I suppose I'll just start with recounting my day. At lunch time, Katie, Lee and I were meeting up with Oliver down by the Lake for a mini picnic. Oliver came over to us and I've never seen him so flushed and angry – aside from that time with the referee in that one Quidditch game, but anyways (you already know how I feel about that whole thing – ugh). He's been having a horrid time of it with his repeat Potions class, and this Slytherin 6__th__ year girl who I guess he ran into (literally) on our first day back here, and she's been pranking him and such since._

_He was pacing back and forth and ranting about the class he had just come from. For starters, Snape rather mercilessly gave them a surprise practical exam, which meant they had a list of three potions to choose from and had to brew one and hand it in by the end of class, no talking, no helping, etc. Oliver went on a long time here with details, but suffice to say, that by the end of class, this Audrey girl had managed to wreck his assignment and his robes, so he had nothing to hand in. He lost points for Gryffindor and received a zero and was forced to stay behind to clean things up. He only just was let out, making this his third Ancient Runes class he's had to miss because of Potions disasters._

_It took a long time to calm the poor boy down! But eventually, he relaxed and we spent the rest of the lunch hour chatting and laughing and skipping rocks on the Lake. It was really fun and I was very sorry for that lunch hour to end._

_Now see, here's the thing. I kind of have feelings for Oliver. And by kind of, I mean… I've just began noticing the past few months or so. I've always noticed how good-looking he is, of course, but he's been my friend for as long as I've been friends with Katie (which by the way, in case you've forgotten, is third year). But it's really become more than that. I like how he says my name, I can't help staring at him when he laughs (and pretending I'm not), and his smile makes my stomach twist oddly._

_I have no idea what to do about this, and as you can see, have done nothing about it for the few months that these feelings have been steadily growing. Katie says sometimes it happens that a platonic relationship turns romantic, and she says that sometimes we develop feelings out of the blue like this. Right now, I simply fear becoming a quivering mess whenever I'm around him. I feel like I'm barely keeping it under control as it is, and that sometimes it's painfully obvious._

_Which makes me wonder if he notices or cares too? I'm just feeling nervous and confused and that's why I can't sleep tonight._

_Anyways, thanks for listening as usual. My eyelids finally feel heavy, so I think writing it down as helped. Talk to you soon,_

_Denise_

* * *

"Priceless! Did you _see_ his face?"

Audrey flopped down onto her bed, down in the Slytherin girls' dormitory. Her two friends, Nicole and Danielle, sat down on their respective beds laughing merrily. She was smiling, but wasn't really sharing in their amusement.

"He thought _you'd_ done it, just like the Instant Downpour," Danielle cackled, her chin-length ice blonde hair swaying as she laughed. "He is so much fun to torture."

"I think that's the third pair of robes he's wrecked now," Nicole put in with a giggle. "He's got to be running out by now. Maybe he'll start coming to class starkers."

The pair clutched their stomachs as a whole new round of laughter hit them. Only several minutes later did they take notice of their dark-haired friend who seemed to be intently studying the space above her bed.

"Aud, you're awfully quiet."

"Hmm?" she turned to look at them, breaking out of her thoughts. "Oh, sorry, just tired is all."

Danielle raised her eyebrow a bit sceptically. "You've been kind of quiet all day – ever since we got Wood in trouble in Potions again this morning."

"Something wrong?" question Nicole.

Audrey smiled. "No, I'm fine, don't worry. Just tired. 'Night girls – talk to you tomorrow." She pulled her bed hangings shut around her and silently pleaded for her friends not to pry further. Thankfully, aside from exchanging glances and similar shrugs, they didn't and proceeded to get ready for bed themselves.

She was indeed tired, but that wasn't the real reason why she'd seemed quiet all day. It was because… well, how exactly could she put it? She'd been working so hard the past several months to forget about the whole thing and had refused to put a name to it. At this point, however, she supposed there was no point in denying it anymore – at least, in her head, to herself.

She had _crush_, and a big one at that.

She couldn't put her finger on when exactly it had started. Sometime last year, in her fifth year, she'd been at a Quidditch match, cheering her team in green. And he'd flown by – that was it, so simple an act, one that had happened a million times before. But he'd been close and she was struck by his good-looks. She'd immediately dismissed the moment – just because he was Gryffindor didn't mean he had to be ugly. Although, he _was_ Gryffindor, so there was no point in harbouring further thoughts about him.

Somehow, that'd lit a spark. She started noticing him everywhere – in the halls, at meals, Hogsmeade trips and so on. They weren't in the same year so they didn't share classes, but even so, it seemed like she saw him constantly. He made her heart speed up and her face go red and she _hated_ it. She hadn't even spoken a single word to him, for Merlin's sake, how pathetic was she! She refused to voice her thoughts of him and tried to fiercely forget the dreams she had of him where he kissed her neck in dark hallways…

It was easier in the summer to forget he existed. She didn't see him at all and she could convince herself that it was silly hormones and nothing more. She couldn't possibly like him, because he was a _Gryffindor_, and Flint's rival – not that she held a torch for Flint, though it seemed everyone, including Flint himself, thought she ought to.

No, summer kept her thoughts quite occupied and Oliver-free. She was of course very busy being the good daughter she tried so hard to be, earn approval and get out of the shadow of her _oh-so-perfect_ older brother Kerrick. Just because he was first-born, a son and therefore heir to the Lewis fortune, just because he was some sort of bloody brilliant Healer, making a name for himself in America and marrying some rich pure-blood lawyer, just because her parents had _planned_ him and not her…

She shook her head firmly, trying to banish thoughts of her family from her mind for once. It was bad enough that she constantly felt like her father's disapproving gaze followed her everywhere she went, or whenever she made a mistake she could hear her mother's cold voice in her head. She didn't need to spend even more time thinking about them. But if she wasn't thinking of her family, her thoughts inevitably circled back to Oliver.

She'd come back to Hogwarts this past September, positive she'd finally banished Oliver from her mind. She hadn't thought about him in weeks and he was nowhere to be seen – and then he'd _bumped into her_. Was the universe _trying_ to destroy her life?

Her next tactic following her encounter with Oliver was to tease and prank him a bit. Maybe if he would be angry with her, if he'd hate her, then she could finally move on. Maybe she'd be able to get control of her feelings and snuff them out if he disliked her. It was easy to dislike someone who disliked you back, right?

And then she had to go and grow a bloody conscience.

It was fun at first; it felt like her plan was working. Seeing him angry brought back the little thrill she got from pranking others, petty as it was. And when he looked so irritated with her, it was so much easier to think of him as any other stuck-up, noble Gryffindor, as some random student, as anyone except himself. But then Danielle had caught on to the Make-Wood-Miserable game and took matters into her own hands, escalating things. Audrey had watched helplessly as Danielle caused Oliver's entire cauldron of Instant Downpour to explode in his face.

She expected to laugh along with her friends, and did manage a chuckle (because in all honesty, it still was pretty funny to see him standing there absolutely sopping), but he'd looked _so _angry, and somewhat hurt and she hadn't been able to help it – she'd felt instantly guilty and felt the desperate need to apologize. But how could she now? He most certainly hated her and assumed she'd been the cause of his latest mishap. Besides, there was no way she was going to show weakness in front of Danielle and the other Slytherins. Not a chance.

At this point, she decided, she would simply have to forget about him. She wouldn't be able to turn Danielle off of her new favourite game anytime soon, so she hoped Oliver would soon realize that it wasn't Audrey doing the pranking. She knew if it was a different person, a different Gryffindor, she wouldn't feel so bad about joining in. After all, what were they to her? But Oliver… he was different.

She screwed up her features tight for a moment. _No_, she thought firmly. _He's not different. He's just another Gryffindor git you couldn't give a knut about._

As she sighed heavily and flipped onto her other side, she knew, unfortunately, that this was not true.

* * *

**A/n:** Thanks for reading. Reviews are like oxygen. :D


	7. Dangerous Combinations

**A/n:** This chapter borrows a scene directly from POA to lend some canon-a-bility and feel to this here story. It will eventually grow to not lean _quite_ as heavily on it, you'll see. Thank for feedback!

* * *

**Chapter 7 - Dangerous Combinations  
**

Finally, October came and with it, Oliver's first love: Quidditch. He'd already spent many early mornings on the pitch just riding and exercising, clearing his head, but he was very eager to get back to playing and working with his team.

He headed to the pitch immediately following supper that Thursday. The sky grew rapidly darker compared to a June evening and the October air continued to become chillier. Not surprisingly, he was the first to reach the change rooms. He unlocked it with his Captain's key and headed inside to wait for the rest of his team.

As he stretched and warmed up, specific thoughts of this being his last Quidditch year at Hogwarts swamped his mind like a miserable flood. Seven years at Hogwarts, and he had _never_ been a part of winning the Quidditch Cup. What was wrong with him? Was it his captaining skills, or lack thereof? Was it his team? He couldn't believe that – he had the best team available, in his opinion. Somehow the fault must lay with him, he decided.

He knew he was supposed to be cheerful in order to instil some motivation in his team, but by the time his team started trickling in, he wasn't feeling particularly cheerful anymore. Angelina, Alicia and Katie, his Chasers, Fred and George, his Beaters, and Harry, his Seeker, all settled on the bench before him and waited for him to begin his usual pep talk.

Oliver sighed and began, unintentionally pacing. "This is our last chance - _my_ last chance - to win the Quidditch Cup. I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at this. Gryffindor hasn't won for seven years now. Okay, so we've had the worst luck in the world - injuries - then the tournament getting called off last year… but we also know we've got the _best - ruddy - team - in - the - school."_ He punched his fist into his other hand, feeling some his old Quidditch fire and energy well up inside him.

"We've got three _superb_ Chasers," he gestured to Alicia, Katie and Angelina, all of whom smiled.

"We've got two _unbeatable_ Beaters," he waved his hand at the twins.

"Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us," said Fred and George together, pretending to blush.

"And we've got a Seeker who has _never failed to win us a match." _ he stared right at Harry for a moment. "And me." he added quietly and none too happily.

"We think you're good, too, Oliver." George said encouragingly.

"Cracking Keeper." Fred agreed.

He smiled a bit in thanks at his team as they tried to help him feel better and plowed on. "The point is, the Quidditch Cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing..."

He exhaled heavily. _My last chance. _He thought glumly.

Following encouragement from his team, he sent them out to begin practice. Just as he was heading out behind them, Fred and George stopped him.

"What is it?" asked Oliver.

"Dirt," Fred replied.

"You wanted some, we got some." George grinned.

Oliver regarded them blankly. "Uh, dirt?"

They each dug in their pockets and produced a small plastic baggie of brown dirt and proceeded to plop them into Oliver's hands. He stared at them for a moment in complete and utter confusion, trying to remember when he had ever asked them for tiny bags of earth, when they burst out laughing and he was quite certain he was missing something.

"We couldn't resist," George leaned on Fred for support.

"Oh, your face," Fred wiped his eyes.

When they had collected themselves, they explained.

"You asked us to dig up 'dirt' on that Slytherin girl, right? So we dug."

Oliver couldn't help a chuckle, their silly introduction now making sense. "Alright, well, let's make it quick, we've got a practice to get to."

"Oh, it'll be quick alright," said George. "We couldn't get anything. No specific scandals, no deep, dirty secrets."

"Surprisingly clean for a Slytherin." Fred shrugged.

"Really?" Oliver raised his eyebrow.

"Her parents are your typical all-hail-the-pure-bloods, honor and fortune types – "

"I imagine her family and the Malfoys must be great mates," George snorted.

"And she has an older brother who lives in America. He's the prize jewel of the family and our informer informs me your little friend is rather resentful of this fact but won't say a word against mummy and daddy - who're separated, by the way."

"She was very nearly sorted into Ravenclaw, but for fear of getting the wrath from her dear pure-blood family, she insisted on being in Slytherin." George finished.

Oliver stared at them. "How in the _world_ did you find all of this out?"

"Ah," Fred waved his finger. "That'll have to be our little secret."

"But when you're as popular with the ladies as we are, mate," George puffed out of his chest. "Let's just leave it at that."

Oliver shook his head. "I don't even want to know."

The three of them headed outside to join the others. Practice went very smoothly in Oliver's opinion, everyone seeming fired up to be back on the pitch. It was a fairly simple practice, being the first of the new season, where they mostly just refreshed old moves and recaptured their team spirit. By the end of it, they were all panting and sweating but seemed as happy with how things had gone as Oliver had.

On the way out after showers and dressing, Oliver reminded them that practices would be three days a week starting on Monday.

"Oh, slave driver, cracking the whip already," Alicia teased on her way out the door.

"At least he's not making us do five," said Angelina.

"Just wait ladies, it'll come, don't you worry." Oliver chuckled and locked up their change room behind him.

* * *

The following week, Oliver endured his miserable Potions classes as usual, and as usual, they were fraught with issues. This time, however, became the worst thus far.

In his first Potions class of the week, after writing down the assignment, Oliver headed over to the cupboards to gather some ingredients.

"Careful Wood," he heard her unmistakable voice behind him.

He turned sharply.

"Be nasty to get that all over you," she gestured to the packages of Sprouting Dust and Firecracker Powder in his arms. She offered him a mischievous smile.

"Don't even think about, Audrey. Don't _even_ – "

She extended her hand, in fact to reach past him, but he thought she was reaching for the ingredients in his arms and he tried to hastily dodge out of her way. He zigged when he should have zagged, and she was so startled by his sudden reaction that she moved abruptly too. The open package of Sprouting Dust toppled out of his arms and all over Audrey.

"Oops – "

She screeched as grass began appearing and growing at an alarming rate from her arm, hair and neck. Without hesitation, she angrily whipped out her wand, hexing him backwards into the shelves. He went flying and landed with a mighty crash. The package of Firecracker Powder went flying.

Snape, who had already begun striding over at the sound of the commotion caused by the Dust spill, hissed, "_Lewis!_"

_BOOM! _

The Firecracker Powder landed on the far side of room, sending students scattering and smoke filling the room. Loud snaps continued to sound and students dove for cover.

Ignoring the throbbing in his back and what certainly felt like a nasty welt forming on his face from where her spell had hit, Oliver was on his feet, drawing his own wand. He sent a spell after her that doused her (and half the class) with icy cold water.

"_Wood!_" Snape fairly shouted, not wanting to stand between them for fear of being hit with a spell. "Wands down, this _instant!_"

Audrey's face was bright red and Oliver's mind was whirling as they fired off a couple more spells at each other. She was certain he'd thrown the Sprouting Powder on purpose and he was smarting from her retaliating hex. The smoke from the Firecracker Powder was drifting thickly and he didn't even realize when the Powder finally stopped bouncing and snapping. He didn't even hear Snape as she tried to curse him again. He dodged and sent one right back at her.

"_Enough!"_ Snape thundered.

It was with a horrible shock of surprise that he found himself frozen in place just as he was sending a Body-Bind curse at Audrey, his ears ringing with the echo of Snape's anger. Across the room, somewhere through the haze of purplish colored smoke hanging in the air, Audrey appeared to be frozen as well. Her wand poised and ready to strike, and the grass from the Sprouting Dust had finally stopped growing on her.

Snape's nostrils were flared and Oliver was certain he'd never seen him so angry before. With a rush of guilt and shame, he realized what he'd just done. Audrey even looked a bit shamed-faced as well.

"I've had more than enough of your antics – _both_ of you! _Twenty_ points from Gryffindor _and_ Slytherin!" Still glaring, he released them from the spell holding them frozen. His tone was furious and cold. "You will take your seats and not _move_ from them without my permission and you will stay after class. MOVE."

Oliver and Audrey mumbled out their "Yes sirs" and slunk to their desks, burning with guilt and embarrassment. Snape waved his wand and the remaining smoke in the room was sucked into a vial on his desk.

After a few more seconds of horrible, deadly silence, in which the rest of the class seemed as though they'd all been frozen too, finally Snape took his infuriated gaze away from the pair of trouble makers, barking at everyone to get back to work, and class resumed. Oliver spent the rest of it with his head down, not bothering to complete the assigned Potion.

He couldn't believe how hot-headedly he'd just reacted. Granted, she had started it, because dumping the Dust on her _had_ been an accident and she'd hexed him. But that didn't excuse the way he'd so easily jumped up and started cursing her back. The only person he'd ever done to that too – and only once, when he was younger and less "wise" – was Flint, after a particularly heated (and in his opinion, underhandedly played) match in his fourth year. He'd lost fifteen points for Gryffindor then, and been in the Hospital Wing for a week. Flint had been there for two.

The point, however, was that it wasn't him – this abrupt retaliation and temper. He was generally easy-going and collected, slow to anger and all that. He didn't understand why he seemed to be able to lose control of his anger so easily around Audrey and silently vowed to try harder to be more cool-headed.

Potions for him was already such a ridiculous disaster, with or without Audrey, he certainly didn't need to make it any worse by earning himself injuries and detentions and losing House points.

* * *

When class finally ended, Snape had Audrey and Oliver clean up in silence. He avoided her gaze at all costs and was quite fine with the silence. Following their clean-up, Snape informed them that he would be dealing with Audrey and would be sending a note along to Professor McGonagall to deal with Oliver. They were to proceed to the Hospital Wing at their earliest convenience: Oliver for the welts on his face and back, and Audrey for the grass still sticking out of her hair and arm.

"I have not failed to notice the undercurrent of animosity between the pair you the past several weeks." Snape informed them, his fingers steepled before him on his dark colored desk. "It ends _now._ And if you _ever_ dare raise your wands and cause such a commotion in my classroom again, the consequences will be immensely more severe."

Oliver swallowed uneasily, his face still hot. "Yes sir." He replied in barely more than a frightened whisper and Audrey followed suit.

"Dismissed." He snapped and waved them out of his room with an air of disgust.

* * *

"You started a _fight_?" Katie stared at him in shock.

"I _said_ I didn't start it," Oliver shot back peevishly. He had just come from his meeting with McGonagall which had been preceded by his trip to the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey had given him a salve for his large red welts but it stung almost worse than the wound itself and smelled like overripe bananas.

"It's for the swelling, dear," she'd told him shortly when he'd complained of the smell. "It'll take it right down, and the pain will go away too in a couple days. You'll need to apply it a few times a day. And don't fuss about the smell!"

"And you lost us a pile of points," Alicia shook her head.

Oliver winced. He already felt guilty about the points Snape had taken away, but it'd hurt worse when McGonagall had taken away an additional ten. She'd yelled a bit and then been coldly disappointed (which felt worse than the yelling, in his opinion).

"I had thought you were above starting a scrap during class, Mr. Wood," she'd chastised.

"I am, Professor, it was just an accident and – and a misunderstanding – "

"Nevertheless, you should _not_ have fired back. The pair of you damaged quite a bit of Professor Snape's Potions ingredients. Your spat was entirely uncalled for. Not to mention the fact that Professor Snape informs me that you and Miss Lewis have been having several problems since the beginning of term in his class, which is even worse, and I must say quite unexpected from you."

He'd wanted to argue then – _But Professor, you don't know what she's like, how she is, how she makes me feel…_ - but had wisely held his tongue. He'd done enough damage for one day.

McGonagall had sighed heavily and told him that what she really should be doing is banning him from the pitch for a certain amount of time (he'd sat up, heart racing in a panic) but couldn't bring herself to do it, not when the season had only just begun (he'd relaxed slightly).

"Consider this your _only_ warning, however, Oliver." She said. "Any more issues between you and Miss Lewis, and I will be forced to be stricter with you, regardless of how dearly I don't want to be." She shook her head disappointedly at him and dismissed him. He'd slumped out, feeling even more horrible and headed to Gryffindor Tower, where he recounted his terrible day to his friends.

"Look, I don't know how many times I have to say it – it was an _accident_. I _accidentally_ spilled the Dust – "

"Oh don't worry about it, mate," Fred waved his hand casually at his friend. "George and I have lost loads of points before."

Alicia glared briefly at him. "Yeah, thanks for that. We'd actually have a significant upper hand in the points if weren't for you two, I think."

"Maybe so," the red-head shrugged. "But what fun would that be? I always loved a close race." His eyes twinkled and he laughed as Katie playfully punched him in the shoulder.

"Well, you'll just have to learn to ignore her," she then offered matter-of-factly. "Everyone knows it's no fun to tease someone who doesn't react. She clearly likes getting you all fired up, so if you don't, the fun will go out of it."

Oliver sighed. It sounded so easy when she said it. He just hoped he could now follow her advice.

* * *

**A/n:** Thanks for reading! Reviews are like… rainbows!


	8. Partnership

**A/n:** I know, I know, it's so typical. I hope I at least wrote it in a less typical, more logical way and less of a cliché plot device. I _hope_.

* * *

**Chapter 8 - Partnership  
**

Naturally, once he decided he would follow Katie's advice and learn to ignore Audrey, Snape had to intervene and make that very thing rather impossible.

He arrived for his second Potions class that week, determined in his new strategy not to rise to any taunt or prank that might be inflicted upon him. He settled in his seat as usual but had only been there for just a moment when Snape barked for him and Audrey to come up to the front at once. Immediately fearing a detention, Oliver hastily complied.

"I have spoken with Professor McGonagall, and she and I have come to the agreement that if we're going to avoid anymore…" he curled his lip with disdain, switching his dark eyes between Audrey and Oliver briefly. "_Accidents_, you two must learn to keep yourselves in check."

Oliver wanted to protest and bit down on his tongue to keep himself from doing so. Audrey, it seemed, lacked his restraint.

"But Professor-!" she burst out.

"Silence," he snapped and she was quiet at once. "In addition, since the pair of you are also rather _disastrous_ at this particular academic subject, and I rather _detest_ the idea of having to teach it to you over again when you both earn T's, you will from now on be completing all assignments as a pair."

Oliver's heart sunk.

Audrey started to make insistent noises of protest again but Snape held up her hand to silence her.

"Problems and '_accidents_' will result in detentions. I have no patience left for the pair of you. Now, be seated." He waved them away.

Shoulders slumping, Oliver went back to his usual seat near the back of the class. Audrey joined him moments later, tossing all her things down beside him haphazardly and huffing the entire time. He rolled his eyes and opened his book.

"Let's get this over with." He said and began working.

"We wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't tried to turn me into a bloody _lawn_," Audrey hissed under breath.

"Come off it," Oliver responded, careful to keep his voice low and his eye on Snape who was across the room supervising Audrey's friends. "That was an accident and you know it."

"The flash flood?" she chopped the Bangle roots fiercely while he added Extract of Dragon Scale to the murky grey liquid in his cauldron.

"That was for the giant red welt on my face," he snapped and jabbed his thumb at the large white bandage covering the worst of the welts. He thought, _Well, the whole "ignoring" thing is out the window…_

"I had _grass_ coming out of my _hair!_"

Oliver's eyes flicked to Snape who had glanced over at Audrey's slightly raised voice.

"Keep it down," he hushed her sharply. "Do you want to get us into trouble all over again?"

She huffed some more but otherwise kept quiet. She clearly wasn't enjoying her punishment any more than he was.

They managed to get through the rest of the class with minimal talking or friction, though when they had to talk it was in short clipped sentences. Their potion, Oliver was surprised to note, got a passing nod from Snape at the end of class which was better than he'd done in weeks. He'd turned to smile at Audrey at that moment, realized who he was about to smile at and changed his mind, instead proceeding to clean up and head out of the classroom without glancing at her at all.

* * *

On Saturday, Oliver rose early with a satisfied stretch. He was very much looking forward to heading down to the pitch for a morning practice. He did this most Saturdays and it was a time when he was able to concentrate and try new moves and ideas, think and clear his mind. He always felt calmer and focused after an hour or so on the pitch. He always tried to make sure he went out well before breakfast, as most students weren't up that early and after breakfast was when other students came out to use the pitch.

As he was getting dressed, Percy entered the dorm from the small bathroom. Oliver raised his eyebrow at him and said,

"Bit early to be up already, isn't it?"

Percy basically ignored him, gathering up a book bag and muttered something about "Penelope" and "library" before exiting the dorm. Oliver himself gathered up his Quidditch robes and gear and also left the dorm, where Fred and George snored softly.

In the Common Room, Oliver was stopped by a nearly breathless little second-year named Colin Creevey.

"Hello Oliver!" he said excitedly. "Headed out to practice?"

"I am indeed," Oliver smiled slightly and skirted around the chair where Colin was seated.

"Have you seen Harry lately?" he asked.

"Can't say I have," answered Oliver, nearly out the portrait when Colin stopped him again.

"Do you know where he is?"

"Probably in bed like most people this early the morning. I'm sure you'll see him at breakfast."

"Oh, right." Colin seemed momentarily deflated before calling, "Well if you see Harry, tell him hello for me!"

"Will do…" Oliver said over his shoulder as the Fat Lady swung shut.

The halls were pretty deserted and Oliver met no one else on his way to the pitch who felt the need to speak to him. Near the Entrance Hall, he stopped to chat briefly with a merry Professor Flitwick who Oliver had discovered last year, rather unexpectedly, was always up for some Quidditch talk. He said he was excited about Gryffindor's and Hufflepuff's prospects for the Cup this year and wished Oliver luck in his practice.

Once at the pitch and after he'd changed into his Quidditch gear, Oliver took a few moments to charm a Quaffle to fly around like it would in a real game so he could properly practice. He also let loose a Bludger so he'd be forced to stay more alert. He stepped out onto the crisp green grass and took a deep breath of air. It was cool and fresh, and there was a hint of morning dew still covering most everything. It felt like the beginning of a perfect practice.

As he mounted his broom and pushed off, the Bludger took off in one direction and the charmed Quaffle took off in another. He took his position at the goal posts and kept his eye on the Quaffle as it bounced through the air as if it were being passed between players. Oliver immediately felt his focus slide to the place where only Quidditch could get it. He became focused on nothing else except the two balls and their movements around the pitch. He'd charmed the Quaffle to increase in difficulty the longer he practiced, so as well as saving most shots, he missed some as well.

The Bludger did its job well, especially when it nearly unseated him and at one point: the Quaffle had distracted him by doing a complicated loop and the Bludger gave him a nasty bruise on his left shoulder. The fact remained, of course, that no matter how well he charmed the Quaffle, it wasn't a match for a real person, but it was good enough for practice.

The Quaffle bounced and shot about the pitch and he didn't take his eyes off of it. He was sure he knew how it was going to play, now heading straight for the right hoop. He drifted in a non-committal fashion nearest to the center hoop, tense and ready to stop it if it veered left in a fake-out or continued barreling right. Sure enough, at the last second, it drastically changed its course, shooting far to the left. He made a practiced grab for it and nearly missed, but it slapped satisfyingly into his hand. He smiled a little and tossed it out.

After he worked himself up quite a sweat, he took the Quaffle down a few notches in difficulty and began practicing and redoing some moves he'd tried over the summer. Some moves were muscle memory, others he was trying to turn into muscle memory, so he did them over and over. As he played and practiced, flew and dodged, caught and twisted, part of his mind began to wander slightly.

Somehow his thoughts came around to Audrey Lewis. He frowned. She was about the last person he felt like wasting his energy on. He had no idea why she had it in for him. He felt as though she had made it her personal mission to absolutely destroy his chances of ever passing Potions – a feat which he would have had enough difficulty doing on his own, without her influence.

He wanted to know _why_ she felt tormenting him was necessary. Of course, part of him argued that she was Slytherin, and did those kinds of people ever really need a reason to torment others? Yet another part of him was sure there had to be something else behind it. Not _every_ Slytherin student was a horrible person, of course. But had he done something particularly horrible to her in the past? He doubted that, since he didn't think he was a malicious person in any way and would be hard pressed to find an act that he'd done that would cause someone else such deep-seated anger.

Perhaps it was because he was Captain of Gryffindor's Quidditch team, Slytherin's biggest rival, and therefore Flint's. He knew many Slytherin girls greatly admired Flint as their captain (though for the life of him he could not figure out why), so maybe she felt the need to torture him in Flint's place. Which brought him to the idea that perhaps _Flint_ was the one putting her up to it.

It wasn't terribly far-fetched, though an admittedly uncharacteristically gutless move on Flint's part if it was true. Flint was generally the one to prank or hurt Oliver right to his face, and being in the same year and therefore many of the same classes gave Flint ample opportunity.

But supposing it wasn't because of Flint, or because she was simply Slytherin, then what else could it be?

He swore slightly as a Bludger made impact on his leg. He'd be sporting two solid-sized bruises after this practice.

_Those will go very nicely with the welts,_ he thought sourly. He shook his head, trying to refocus. It worked for a little while, but slowly like ink swirling in water, she drifted back into the forefront of his mind.

The more he thought about her, the angrier he got, until he was saving the Quaffle with fierce and intense movements. Why was it _him_ that she'd decided to go after? Why was it _his_ life she seemed to need to ruin?

All of it was starting to drive him mental and he'd _quite_ had enough – more than enough. After weeks of trying to come up with a solution to the Audrey problem, however, he had nothing. Especially now that they were being forced to be partners and he'd had to throw Katie's advice of ignoring her out the window. He absolutely couldn't retaliate under Snape's watch, and he shared no other classes with her, which left mealtimes and the time in between classes. Mealtimes were out as there were too many teachers and he was beginning to wonder if she purposely avoided him in the halls because of fear of retaliation, as he never managed to see her anywhere aside from Potions and meals.

Even so, after the blow-up the other day, the idea of retaliation no longer particularly appealed to him. Not only did he not want to have to endure whatever punishment would be doled out as result of whatever he did, he couldn't stand having to face McGonagall's horribly disapproving gaze again.

If she would just leave him alone... If she would _just_ leave him _alone_ -

He snapped his attention away from the Audrey problem just in time to avoid the Bludger which had been coming at his head. The Quaffle was barreling up right behind it and he barely had time to react. Out of instinct, he locked his legs together and swung sideways in a wild moved he'd seen a Japanese Keeper use a few times. It didn't quite work, as the Quaffle buzzed past his outstretched fingertips and he grabbed his broom with both hands to avoid falling off. He straightened up as the Quaffle dropped a few feet, simulating a dropped ball before flying back up and taking a wide circle around the pitch.

He angrily drew his wand, taking the charm off the Quaffle and flew down to the ground to dismount and put away the two balls. He hauled the box back to its storage area and changed back into his everyday clothes. His cheeks felt hot and he knew it wasn't only because of what had turned into a poor practice. He hated that Audrey, who was not even present, still somehow managed to break his focus and make him feel stupid. The bruises on his shoulder and leg were tender and smarting and he could thank her for those, as well as three sets of ruined robes, the still-stinging welts on his face and back, and several grade-less assignments from Potions.

He seethed and boiled all the way back to the castle and into the Entrance Hall. As he was ascending the marble staircase, he couldn't believe his horrible luck as none other than Audrey came around the corner.

* * *

**A/n:** Mmm, Murphy's Law. The person you least want to see will show up when you absolutely _least_ want to see them. Raise your hand if this has ever happened to you! ;) Thanks for reading, as always.


	9. Turn My Heart to Stone

**A/n:** Thanks to everyone who's read this far, muchly appreciated!

* * *

**Chapter 9 - Turn My Heart to Stone  
**

She looked startled to see him and her olive toned cheeks flushed quite red. He silently cursed Merlin and anyone else he could think of, and determined not to acknowledge her, came stomping up the steps.

"Morning Oliver," she said with a sweet smile, if almost nervous tone.

He faced her angrily. "I am in _no_ mood for your garbage today, so sod off." He said harshly.

She looked momentarily taken aback but her features immediately hardened. "I was only saying – "

"Look, whatever idiotic thing you're going to do to me, either get it over with or leave."

"For heaven's sake, I'm just _walking_ in the hall – "

"Yes, I'm supposed to believe that," Oliver scoffed.

"It's not _my_ fault that you – "

Audrey was interrupted once again, this time not by Oliver, but her blonde friend who came sauntering up at that moment.

"Well, well," she sneered. "If it isn't the worst Keeper this school has ever seen. Up early learning how to fly, Woody?"

Oliver turned his hostile gaze from Audrey to the blonde, though he didn't fail to notice the way Audrey's whole demeanor seemed to shift. She crossed her arms over her chest and a wide smirk spread across her features. He didn't have the chance to retort before Audrey joined in her friend's insults.

"It is really amazing that your team _ever_ wins a game, given your atrocious skills – or complete lack thereof." She said.

Oliver narrowed his eyes. A little voice was telling him to walk away, trying to remind him of the blow-up with her in Snape's class, but his mounting anger at Audrey seemed to have fully surfaced and he simply couldn't. Even if it was just words, it was finally a moment to get back at her, even in some small, petty way.

"At least my team _does_ win. That's more than your sorry excuse for a Quidditch team can ever say." He snapped.

She seemed quite undeterred by his stab at Flint and the Slytherin house team, though her blonde friend looked a touch offended. "Come off it, Wood. I'd wager my grandmother is a better Keeper than you."

"Cracking good, is she? And I don't see _you_ catching any Quaffles." He shot back.

Breakfast must have been close or in progress, as a handful of students were now milling about, passing the pair on the stairs or going behind them in the halls. As their voices escalated, however, several stopped to stare at the exchange.

"She's not Captain of a Quidditch team, though, is she?" said the blonde.

"Exactly, Danielle." Audrey grinned smugly as if that settled everything.

"No, you have to possess an ounce of talent and integrity to earn that position. Excluding Flint, of course." He retorted. The little voice was being very insistent: _Walk away, walk away, this isn't you!_ And yet he found himself rooted to the spot. "What Audrey, can't insult me yourself? Need your friend to do it for you?"

Audrey's eyes flashed. "Think I can manage on my own, Woody."

_Walk away now!_ The little voice was practically screaming. He physically wrenched himself away from her and turned away, taking a few steps back.

"Leaving so soon?" she said snidely. "Knew you couldn't take it."

He whirled on her, squashing the little voice. "I can take it just fine, thank you."

"'Course you can. Muggle-born, you're probably used to it, I imagine." She flipped her hair slightly.

He wasn't a Muggle-born, in fact, but that hardly mattered. The fact that she would use a low insult like that - it trumped her previous insults and general garbage he'd put up with.

_Enough is enough!_

His breaking point, which in truth he reached very rarely in his life, was hit in that instant. He held onto an ounce of control in that he didn't draw his wand, but it hardly mattered a few seconds later – in fact, a hex might've been less damaging. The tie between his mouth and his brain was severed and only once those around him reacted to his words did he realize what he'd said.

"You know what Audrey? One of my parents may be a Muggle, but at least they're still together. And I see _exactly _why your brother is the prize jewel in your family – who _wouldn't_ be next to you?"

Danielle paled. Audrey's arms dropped to her sides and she suddenly looked on the verge of tears. Oliver felt an instant wave of guilt that almost forced his mouth open in an apology right then and there. But there was still a large ember of anger at her words and he couldn't help thinking, _She deserved it._

She turned and pushed uncaringly past a few students who'd been lingering to watch the argument, and Danielle followed right behind her.

Oliver glared at the remaining students. "Show's over." He growled and they slowly began to disperse.

* * *

When he finally reached Gryffindor Tower, he felt downright awful. His anger was dissipating and he could hardly believe what he'd said. That wasn't like him at all – first hexing and losing points, now this? He wasn't one to hurl insults or lose his temper, and he _especially _was not one to deal such a low blow about her family.

He felt terrible but didn't know what to do exactly. The obvious thing – the decent thing - to do was apologize. But how could he after all she'd put _him_ through – surely his anger was justified?

His mind was still swirling unpleasantly with the encounter as he entered the Common Room. There he found George reading a magazine.

"You're back early, aren't you?" he commented, looking up at his friend. "Usually not back from your practice for another half hour."

Oliver sighed and collapsed in a chair next to George. "I don't want to talk about it."

The portrait opened and in came Fred and Lee at that moment, saving Oliver from his friend's questioning look. George immediately turned his attention to his brother and Lee, looking eager.

"Well, did she say yes?" he asked at once.

"Who? Julie Brightman?" said Lee.

"Yes, that Ravenclaw girl – who else would I be talking about?"

Lee shook his head. "She said no. But her friend Vicki Glover – you know, the tall gorgeous brunette? She offered to go instead, so _I_ said yes."

The three shared a laugh and Oliver glanced between them all.

"What's this?" he queried, thankful for any distraction.

"Lee got himself a date for Hogsmeade next weekend," supplied Fred. "I was with him for moral support – I was getting the eye from one of the other girls there, though so I might have to check that out."

"Come off it. She probably thought you were me – I'm the better looking one anyway." said George.

As Fred and George continued to banter, Oliver laughed along and felt loads better. Listening to his friends managed to push his encounter with Audrey away from his mind and therefore lightened his mood. By the time they all headed down catch the tail-end of breakfast together, he felt much happier, so long as he refused to think about his morning thus far.

* * *

The dormitory door creaked only slightly as Nicole tentatively entered, her long robes swishing as she moved. Danielle had snottily said she didn't know what Audrey's problem was, yet refused to talk about what exactly happened to make Audrey disappear into their dorm, except to toss her hair and mention Oliver Wood the idiot Gryffindor.

"Audrey?" said Nicole softly. "You alright?"

Audrey was lying on her stomach on her bed, her face half-buried in a damp pillow. She didn't reply.

"Aud… do you want to tell me what happened?" she sat down on the bed beside Audrey and placed her hand gently on her friend's back.

Audrey couldn't seem to meet her friend's eyes. "It was nothing. I'm fine."

The red-head frowned. "Then why have you been crying?"

"Look, it's stupid, really. I don't know why I'm so upset." She stood abruptly and brushed her friend away.

"Shield's up, then?" Nicole said coldly and Audrey turned to face her.

"What do you – "

"You can't even tell me why you've skipped breakfast and stayed on your bed crying all morning? You're buried that far down now, you _can't_ even tell me _that_?"

She sighed. "Nicole, listen…"

"Audrey, I'm your best friend – or at least, I used to be. Whatever it is, you can tell me. And I mean really tell me, like you used to before…" she gestured weakly. "Before you got to _this_ – where you have one Audrey you show everyone and one Audrey you won't show _anyone_ anymore."

Audrey regarded her friend momentarily, trying to decide how much to say. Finally, she carefully said, "This morning I ran into Wood and he… he said some stuff that got to me, that's all."

"And?"

"And… that's all."

Nicole gave a frustrated sigh. "Fine. Don't be honest with me. I should be used to it by now." She turned to leave, and her hand was on the door when she heard her friend speak, so quietly she thought she must've misheard.

"That's not all."

She faced Audrey again and waited.

"I… look, if I tell you…" she twisted her hands in front of her. "Danielle… no one… they _cannot_ find out."

"I won't tell anyone." said Nicole.

"No matter what it is?"

"No matter what." Nicole agreed at once. She was good at keeping secrets, even if their other friend Danielle was not.

It still took a few moments before Audrey managed the courage to speak. "I… I tried not to. I really did – I did everything. I thought if I could make him hate me, I – that it'd be easier and I could…" She shook her head and realization slowly dawned on Nicole.

"You're in love with him, aren't you?" she said, her tone unreadable.

Audrey nodded, scared of her friend's reaction. "Look, I swear nothing could ever come of it, especially with Mother and Father and – well, he's Gryffindor, obviously, and – oh please, don't tell anyone. If Danielle finds out or if…" She paused very briefly and then rushed on. "And it's not l-love, that's too big a word, and I just, well, I _do_ think about him all the time. And now he _does_ hate me, and now I've realized that I just want to _be_ with him but I… oh please do say something!"

Nicole tilted her head slightly. "You remember Alex, right?"

Audrey nodded. "Of course."

"You remember when you found me sobbing in the bathroom because I thought I was still in love with him, but I couldn't go back to being his friend for fear of what everyone would say?"

Audrey nodded a second time.

"Well, it wasn't worth the heartbreak." She said flatly. "I suggest you try harder to bury your feelings about this, before Danielle – or worse, your parents – find out about it."

This was hardly what Audrey wanted to hear. Somehow, she'd been hoping for some sort of magical solution to come from her friend to help her figure out how she could keep the respect of her friends, earn approval from her parents and still be with Oliver.

_Who hates you_, she thought grimly. _Excellent job, Audrey. This is what you want, though, isn't it?_

"You're good at lying and hiding how you really feel, though, Aud." Nicole shrugged and added in a softer tone, "He graduates this year anyway. Then you'll never have to see him again." She smiled in a reassuring way, which somehow made Audrey feel worse.

She forced a smile back. "You're right. Thanks Nicole."

"Anytime."

After her friend was gone, Audrey crawled back onto her bed, closed the hangings and let the tears slide silently down her cheeks.

* * *

**A/n:** Perhaps little Miss Independent has a chink in her armor after all? We'll just have to see. Thanks for reading, and reviews are like gravy on turkey: you can never have too much.


	10. Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

**A/n:** I've just been informed it is snowing out. I was under the impression that a) it's spring (late spring, in fact) and b) I did not live in the Arctic. The only consolation to this is that it's warm enough out that it's melting on contact. Excuse the snow related rant and please enjoy the next chapter. ;P

* * *

**Chapter 10 - Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word  
**

As the days went by, Oliver continued to feel badly about the way he'd acted towards Audrey and the things he'd said. He had no idea how to go into his next Potions class, knowing he had to be her partner and knowing the hurt he'd visibly caused her. Whether she was horrible or not, he never should have said those things about her and her family.

He decided he would simply have to try and be civil, and duck if she came running at him with a wand.

* * *

He went into Potions the following the week with serious trepidation. He didn't really know what to expect from Audrey – was she going to curse him to high heaven and screw the consequences? Would she verbally assault him? Would she ignore him and do nothing at all?

He'd been seated a few moments when she arrived, stiffly taking her place beside him. He felt the words of apology bubbling up but something stopped him from speaking them and they died on his lips. He didn't know what was holding him back from just saying he was sorry for the words that had hurt her.

She didn't look at him but started getting herself ready to take notes. He followed her lead.

The class turned out to be strictly note-taking and lecture with no practical lesson, so Oliver was spared from the awkwardness of trying to work with her on a Potion without speaking. He decided he would just say he was sorry as soon as class was over and that'd be it, and it'd be over. When the bell rang however, he turned to her, hesitated too long and she hurried away.

* * *

In the next Potions class, it went quite similar. He wanted to apologize and didn't understand why it was so hard, why he couldn't seem to bring himself to do it. It wasn't that he was angry with her anymore, but yet he still resented the misery she'd brought upon on him the first month or so of term. He hadn't thought he was one to hold a grudge, but here he was, choking on the word "sorry" because of some lost House points and several sets of ruined robes.

As class progressed, they spoke in neutral tones, only when absolutely necessary and became good at understanding each other's gestures or nods in order to avoid speaking. They handed in their project at the end of class and went their separate ways without another word.

* * *

For the rest of the month of October, Oliver did his best to focus on Quidditch and only Quidditch. He worked his team well in practices and continued his own early morning ones on the weekends. Gossip about Sirius Black was everywhere daily, though as far as Oliver knew, nothing new had actually happened with the fugitive.

Potions began to go smoother with himself and Audrey not speaking. In a very, very strange way, all the mess with Audrey seemed to be working out for both of them. He was by no means getting better at Potions – he doubted he ever would – but she would stop him from making his usual mistakes and he helped her away from hers. It was an odd alliance almost, where he continually felt guilty about their blow-up but almost appreciated that it had happened. She was no longer tormenting him and though she certainly seemed just as rude or arrogant when he saw her in the corridors with her friends, she was completely neutral to him during Potions.

He couldn't help feeling like she wanted to cry when they accidentally looked at other, though, which usually made him feel worse and bring that apology to his throat again. One time, he finally almost managed to force it past his lips.

She glanced his way as she handed him some chopped up Flitterbloom roots, her eyes glistening.

"Audrey, look," he began.

She met his eyes unsteadily as if she would crumble if he used the wrong word. He instantly felt startled – this was not the tough, angry girl he'd met earlier this year. Then abruptly her features steeled over as if she realized he could see her hurting and she even smiled a touch. His mind jumped to the moment in the hallway and the anger that had welled up inside him so quickly at her words.

"Uh… can you pass me the measuring spoon?" he copped out and dropped his gaze.

She complied without a word and went back to reviewing the lesson's instructions.

* * *

On Halloween morning, Oliver was in remedial History of Magic which was a class he'd mostly taken so he, Fred and George wouldn't have to suffer alone in the sixth/seventh year split class. He was leaning on his hand, completely zoning out as his mind ran through a Quidditch game he'd seen film of recently.

Fred gently poked him with his quill. "Your eyes have been glassy for quite some time, my friend," he said.

Oliver blinked and realized there was cramp in his shoulder from staying in that position too long. "Oh, thanks."

"Remind me why we fools voluntarily opted to take this class again?" Fred sighed.

Oliver chuckled. "I don't remember. Something about having our options open and filling our schedules."

"Right. Because McGongall wouldn't let us have two spare blocks in our schedule."

"And all the other less ridiculous classes were full."

"Right."

Oliver and Fred sighed heavily at the same time and then snickered. After several more minutes of vainly trying to focus on the droning Binns, Fred gave up first, followed quickly by Oliver.

"You know, you've seemed a bit out of sorts lately. I've got just the cure."

"I'm not trying _anything _you give me." Oliver said warningly.

The red-head laughed and waved his friend's comment off. "No, no, nothing like that," he said. "It's an activity."

"Go on," Oliver cautiously encouraged his friend.

"Well, see the Hogsmeade trip is tomorrow. Lee is going with Vicki Glover – that Ravenclaw, remember? And George is going with Kelsey Underhill, her friend. I'm going with Stephanie Peterson."

"I'm trying and failing to see how this information is supposed to make me feel better."

"Be patient, I'm getting there. See, the thing is, Lauren Palmer is another friend and she's left with no one to go with." He raised his eyebrows much too innocently at Oliver.

So apparently a blind date to Hogsmeade was supposed to make him feel better according to Fred. He rolled his eyes.

"I'm not going on your… quadruple date."

"Oh c'mon, why not?"

"Because I don't do blind dates."

"You don't _any_ dates if you want me to call up the number of serious girlfriends you've had in the past year. Goose egg, my friend. Donut holes – "

"Hey, I've been a date or two!" Oliver protested.

"_Serious_, I said. Which would be – "

"Zero, alright, I get it." He shook his head. "I'm still not coming."

"But you would disappoint Lauren!" Fred wheedled.

"I don't even _know_ Lauren. I was going to hang out with Katie and Denise."

"And be completely boring. Look, you _are_ coming. I already told her you were."

"Oh thanks a lot." Oliver rolled his eyes again. "So asking me if _I_ wanted to go was just a formality or what?"

Fred grinned. "Precisely."

As class ended, Oliver followed his friend out, already deciding to make the date as short as possible. The quicker he got it over with, the sooner he would be able to hang out with Katie and Denise as he'd intended.

* * *

Oliver met the twins, Lee and the four Ravenclaw girls at the gate the following day. George swiftly went about the introductions so everyone knew everyone else. Lee was with Vicki Glover, a girl with sharp dark eyes and long black hair, who was a few inches shorter than Lee. George's date was Kelsey Underhill, who was a dirty blonde with blue eyes and fair skin. Fred was to be accompanying Stephanie Peterson, a girl who had curly brown hair to her shoulders, very tan skin and a wide smile. Oliver's date was Lauren Palmer as promised, with golden hair to her shoulder blades, hazel eyes and only just a bit shorter than Oliver.

"Nice to meet you," he awkwardly held out his hand and shook hers with a bit of a strained smile on his face.

"You too," she replied, beaming prettily.

As the group began walking, Oliver did his best to be civil and tried to cut Lauren some slack. It was possible she didn't really want to be on a blind date either. All the way to Hogsmeade, the twins, Lee and their dates were all talking animatedly about nearly everything as if they were old friends, making things feel even more awkward for Oliver, who wasn't good at small talk and least of all with a pretty girl on a blind date.

They were nearly there when a snatch of the conversation going on up ahead of him floated back and made him feel slightly panicked.

"I _love_ Puddifoot's," said Stephanie, her arm linked with Fred's. "She always decorates it differently."

Oliver swallowed thickly. It was a pretty well-known fact that Madame Puddifoot's was the go-to place for couples, especially for a snog. He desperately hoped Lauren wasn't going to be expecting a kiss from him and he silently cursed Lee and the twins for taking them all there.

Fred happened to turn his head back and caught his friend's look of fear. He laughed heartily. "Oh Oliver, don't look so frightened. I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself."

Oliver's cheeks flushed a bit and he glanced nervously at Lauren who smiled encouragingly.

_Oh Merlin, what have I gotten myself into?_

* * *

**A/n:** Good luck, Oliver, you're going to need it. ;) Thanks for reading!


	11. The Blind Date

**A/n:** Having been a handful of blind dates recently (one of which was a disaster) I don't blame Oliver for being nervous. Let's see how he does…

* * *

**Chapter 11 - The Blind Date  
**

The group settled into chairs at separate tables once they had reached the very colorfully decorated Madame Puddifoot's. With a small amount of amusement, Oliver noticed several uncomfortable looking couples scattered about the room – at least he wasn't the only one. There were others, however, who were perhaps a bit _too_ comfortable, as they were snogging vigorously and only making the situation worse for the uncomfortable ones.

Oliver and Lauren seated themselves at a cramped little table right by the window. The café was full of assorted pink and red decorations (hearts mostly) clearly intended for Valentine's Day but had been left up. The sharp black and orange bats and pumpkin decorations that had been put up for Halloween managed to look oddly out of place amongst the excess of red and pink. There was a lot of clashing color in the stuffy shop, and even the occasional mini-explosion of confetti from random decorations.

He'd only been in the café once or twice before, but at this moment Oliver decided he officially hated the place. He took his eyes away from the ridiculous décor and turned his attention to Lauren.

She leaned forward on the table slightly, half-smiling. "You know, I'm not really a fan of this… whole thing either."

He let out his breath in a rush. "How'd you guess?"

Lauren smirked. "Kind of obvious, Mr. Two-Word-Sentences."

The pair shared a little laugh. A waitress came and took their orders, which were delivered just a few minutes later.

"Sorry about that, I'm just not really good with small talk. Or on dates." Oliver shrugged. He glanced at his friends to see how their respective dates were going.

Fred and Stephanie seemed to be getting on quite well, as Fred was telling a story that Stephanie found completely hilarious. George and Kelsey were having some sort of deep and serious discussion already, about religion or politics or something, while meanwhile Lee and his date were attached at the mouth and oblivious of everything else.

Oliver cleared his throat uneasily and looked away from them.

"It's okay, I'm not expecting anything. We just met." Lauren smiled reassuringly, but at the same time, she placed her hand on top of Oliver's which had been resting on the table. He was a bit startled by the action and didn't exactly know how to react.

"I, uh, no, I mean yes," He fumbled for words. He couldn't understand how when he was playing Quidditch he managed to find a cool, focused center and here in this stuffy shop he couldn't do anything but focus on one thing at a time. Like her hand.

"If you don't mind me asking, when was the last time you were on a date?" Lauren asked sweetly.

Oliver first stared at her hand on his, then looked fleetingly out the window, noting that snow was beginning to accumulate outside. He wondered how long he'd been in Madame Puddifoot's already and how much longer he was required to stay out of politeness.

"I, uh… that is," He tried to bring himself back to Lauren, who was still smiling prettily at him. "A while ago. I mean, not a _while_, while, but, a normal amount of… while…"

_What are you even saying?_ He thought. _Just form one coherent sentence. Just one…_

He cleared his throat again. "Before summer."

"Valentine's Day for me. It was serious, but we broke up just a few days later."

She was rubbing her thumb on the top of his hand now. Why was she doing that? Did she forget that they had just met? How was she being so familiar with him? Was he missing something?

He looked out the window again, then at the others in the café. Across the room he could see a boy and girl no more than about fourteen who were having a heated discussion. In the booth behind them was a pair who were grinning sloppily and looked starry-eyed. Lee and Vicki were really going at it, and now Fred and Stephanie were holding hands and speaking in soft tones, while George and Kelsey continued debating the issues of the world.

Why couldn't he talk to Lauren? Why, aside from his friends, did he tend to have trouble with girls? _Why_ was she still holding his hand?

She gave it an abrupt squeeze causing his attention to snap back to her and her hazel eyes.

"You don't think much of me, do you?" she said disappointedly.

"Er, sure I do," he answered.

"Could have fooled me. You can't seem to keep your eyes on me. Usually I have the opposite problem."

"Look, it's just – " he began but she cut him off, her tone suddenly sharp.

"Don't you find me pretty?"

"I, yes, I do, I mean – "

"And haven't I been quite nice?"

"Er, of course – "

"Then what's the problem?"

_This is fast going from bad to worse,_ he thought nervously and tried to think of a way to smooth things over.

"You're lovely, Lauren, I just don't… look, it's just…"

He was stuck at the hand. She was still holding it and there was no way for him to politely remove it. Maybe if her thumb wasn't lightly rubbing circles on his as if they'd been dating for months already. Maybe if he knew her better or if they weren't in Madame Puddifoot's or if Lee wasn't _very loudly_ snogging Vicki Glover, a cramped table away from them. Maybe if he had been prepared for this or had been more alert and not left his hand out on the table like that.

Maybe he would just kill Fred later for this whole ridiculous thing.

_No, not maybe. Definitely._

"It's just what?" she prompted angrily and Oliver uneasily noted the way her previously soft hazel eyes seemed to have taken on a sharp and hungry quality to them. There was an edge to her voice too, which hadn't previously been there and he didn't like it at all. He abruptly imagined her flipping the table between them in a sudden rage if he said the wrong thing. It was an outrageous thought but the look in her eye was awfully unsettling.

"I'm not good at this – at dates, or anything… like this." He gestured desperately to the sensory overload setting around them. "The last, er, _date_ I was on was really more of… a tipsy experiment at the end of a very long Quidditch party." His cheeks flushed at the memory. _Last snog fest, more like. Not that I haven't snogged anyone since of course, but – _Merlin_, just focus for five seconds!_

"I completely understand," said Lauren, softening again. "Don't feel bad. And just relax, Oliver. Be yourself."

The edge and the sharpness melted away instantaneously as if it had never been there in the first place. She squeezed his hand and her appealing, beaming smile from before returned. It seemed tainted, however, since he had seen that strange anger.

_Maybe if Lauren wasn't coming off as a bit of a nutter I'd be more comfortable with this whole thing._

He forced what he hoped was a natural looking smile in return and then had to stop himself from exhaling in relief when she pulled her hand away from his in order to sip at the tea she'd ordered earlier. He silently counted to three before slowly retracting his hand in order to take a sip from his own cup. He then moved his hand to his lap and was conscious not to repeat his previous mistake.

The two managed to make more small talk for quite some time. Twice she reached for his hand on the table, only to find it wasn't there and then awkwardly covered by pretending she'd meant to grab her cup. Her eyes sparkled and she was in fact quite likeable and charming, and as the minutes ticked by, it became easy to forget about her strange moment earlier. He still wondered how long he needed to stay before he could politely leave, however, and was already imagining what he would say to Denise and Katie later in The Three Broomsticks about the date.

At one point, they fell silent for a few moments and Oliver's eyes wandered to the window and the snow still falling beyond it. The ground was mostly covered now and the flakes were falling thick and heavy.

"You know, I _love_ Quidditch, Oliver," Lauren said a bit loudly as she shifted her chair around the table a bit to be closer to him.

"Oh really?" he said, wondering why she'd suddenly moved her chair.

"I even play." She smiled and then her hand was on his knee.

He stared down at it. "Oh, um… w-what position do you play?"

"_Forward_." Her eyes had that hungry quality from before in them. Her smile was less sweet and she was leaning towards him.

_Merlin, she wants me to kiss her. I'm absolutely going to murder Fred._

"That's great, er, wonderful. Have you ever tried out for y-your House team?"

"Of course. But I'm just not quite good enough it seems," she peered up at him under thick eyelashes and the hand that was not on his knee started twirling her hair around her finger. "Not as good as _you_, anyway, but then again who is?"

She gave his knee a squeeze and he involuntarily jumped, which in turn caused her to pull her hand away in surprise. He tried to stutter out some sort of sentence and she crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair looking very irritated.

"Do you know how many girls would love to be in my position right now?" she asked sharply.

He shook his head dumbly.

"Here I am on a date with _Oliver Wood,_" she said his name in a soft and breathy voice as if it were the most romantic thing in the world. "In this wonderfully romantic place, and you won't even _pretend_ like you're having fun."

"I-I'm sorry, I – "

"It'd just be nice if I had something worth reporting for this date." She suddenly pulled her chair even closer to him so she could easily lean forward and touch his face.

"R-report?" He tried to lean back and away from her, thinking now with absolutely certainty that Lauren was indeed a complete nutter. He couldn't keep up with her mood swings and she was just much too close and _he barely knew her!_

"I know a lot of girls who would love to hear things about how nice of a guy you are, how you treat your dates, are you really everything you seem…"

"I-I'm not a celebrity or something," he protested and managed to move his chair back a couple inches.

Undeterred, Lauren slid her chair right to him, so she sat directly in front of him, her legs on either side of his and her face close enough to kiss. "What kind of a kisser you are was high on the list, you know."

"S-sorry?" He stopped all train of thought.

Her hands were on his thighs now. "Look, Oliver, I don't mean to be so… _direct_, but…" she bit her lip then smiled up at him with the sweet, beaming smile from earlier. "I've liked you immensely from the start of today and… I rather thought you liked me too…"

He didn't know how that had happened – he was feeling bad for being a poor date most of the time, with his limited small talk, wandering eyes and constant thoughts of ending the date. Which he decided was going to be right about now.

"Let's make this date what it should be," she tried and rested her hands on his chest. In a gentle whisper, she said, "Kiss me." She slowly closed her eyes and puckered her shining pink lips slightly.

Were he someone else, or had he gotten to know her and more importantly like her, he might have taken advantage of the situation and kissed the pretty girl who was all over him. But at that moment, he was far too uncomfortable with the whole thing.

In the next half second, Oliver leapt out of his chair, banging into the people behind him. Lauren's eyes snapped open, he hastily apologized to the people he'd disturbed and to Lauren, before practically bolting for the door. She watched him go, in complete shock and at a loss as to what to do next.

"Wow…" she shook her head, mumbling. "I've never had _that_ reaction before."

Stephanie, who had overheard much of the past couple minutes as Fred had left for the bathroom, snickered. "Didn't go as planned, hey Lauren? What did you do to him?"

Lauren sighed dramatically. "I tried everything and he was _absolutely_ uninterested."

Stephanie laughed. "I think you were probably trying too hard."

Lauren pouted. "Well it worked for Roger Davies."

* * *

Once outside, Oliver hurried down a few streets and put some distance between him and Madame Puddifoot's. That was most certainly the worst date – including the drunken post-Quidditch-victory snog-fest a few years ago that had ended in ample awkwardness - he'd been on and he rather hoped never to encounter Lauren again. He kept glancing behind him, half-expecting her to come chasing after him, demanding he kiss her.

While he was not looking forwards at where he was hurriedly walking, he slammed into another person who also glancing backwards and hastening to their destination.

"Oh sorry – " Oliver stopped immediately when he saw it was Audrey.

She met his eyes and neither of them said anything for a moment. He wasn't sure if she was going to hex him or just walk away. Before he could talk himself out it, he blurted,

"Look Audrey, I should have said this a lot sooner, but… I'm really sorry for what I said about your parents, and you and your brother. That wasn't like me and… it was real awful of me. And I'm sorry for cursing you in Snape's class."

He tried to gauge her reaction, but her face remained quite neutral. He waited a few seconds for her to reply, wondering if she was going to react at all to what he had just said. Finally with a sigh and shrug he moved to walk past her. Now at least his conscience was clear and he could go enjoy the rest of the afternoon with Katie and Denise.

He had only gone a few steps when he heard Audrey say his name so quietly, indeed he barely heard her at all.

"Yes?" he faced her and was surprised to see her eyes glistening.

"I'm sorry too," she whispered. "For everything."

He lifted his chin slightly, very surprised that she was apologizing back. He certainly wouldn't have expected that. For a moment he didn't know what to say, so chose to remain silent. They stood staring at each other for several seconds, each unsure of what to do next.

The snow muted the world around them, falling and collecting in their hair and shoulders. Her cheeks were red with cold, her dark eyes sparkling from either emotion or something else he didn't know. Finally there was a peal of laughter in the distance from some students coming out of Zonko's, which broke the strange spell that had settled between them.

"Don't worry about it," Oliver said, smiling a little.

She returned his smile and it was a bit shy, but genuine. It wasn't the hard smile he was used to seeing on her face when she was with her friends and he found he quite liked it.

"Well…" he gestured with his thumb over his shoulder at The Three Broomsticks down the street.

"Yes, of course," she nodded.

He hesitated. "See you in Potions, Audrey."

"You too."

They parted and went on their way. Oliver dug his hands into his pockets, thinking about the moment with Audrey. He chanced a glance back over his shoulder and could see her figure fading in the distance as she headed back to the castle. He almost had the urge to follow her, but then his hand was on the handle of The Three Broomsticks and he shook the feeling off along with the snow in his hair.

* * *

**A/n:** Yes, a little bit of Lauren was homage to the awesome YoSafBridge. Triple bonus points if you know what I'm talking about at all. ;) Thanks for reading, reviews are shiny! Also, side note, my blind date disaster was nothing like this in case anyone was wondering. :P


	12. That Sirius Black

**A/n:** Once again, a scene from POA borrowed a bit creatively for canon-ness. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 12 - That Sirius Black  
**

The rest of Oliver's day went immensely better from that point on. He had a lot of fun recounting his extremely uncomfortable date with Lauren to Katie and Denise, and later Angelina and Cedric who came to join them. As they all headed back to Hogwarts together, they threw snowballs that often fell apart in the air. Then they chose to make unsuspecting students their targets. Most laughed and joined in the fight for a few minutes, others were quite annoyed and hurried on their way, which naturally made the game more fun.

Finally come suppertime, they came into the Great Hall wet and panting, cheeks red and stinging from the cold. They separated to their respective House tables and got themselves ready and excited for the Halloween feast. When the twins and Lee came in, Oliver noted a very sulky, pouting Lauren in their wake, though she seemed to perk up instantly when Roger Davies gave her a wave and a wink.

Katie and Oliver were re-enacting earlier when they had gotten Percy very riled up by repeatedly sending snowballs after him, when the twins and Lee plopped down beside them.

"Now why'd you go and do that for?" said George mournfully.

"What? Hit Percy more than four times with snowballs?" Katie asked with a laugh. "Thought you'd greatly approve of that."

George's face broke into a wide grin, matched by Fred's. "_That_ I didn't know about. I shake you warmly by the hand to show my deep appreciation of your initiative and courage." He reached across Fred to shake Katie's hand, then Oliver's. "I only regret that I wasn't present to witness such a wondrous act."

"I too thank you from the very bottom of my heart," Fred joked and followed George's example by vigorously shaking his friends' hands.

"No, I was speaking about the rather _disastrous _turn of events this afternoon at Madame Puddifoot's," George sighed heavily.

"You mean me leaving?" asked Oliver.

"More like running as though your knickers were on fire," Lee snorted.

"Oh, like you noticed, Mr. Lip-Locked." Oliver fired back and his friend laughed unashamedly.

"My date was going downhill anyway, but you're leaving set off a bit of chain reaction, see." George explained.

"You two seemed to be getting on alright when I left. Debating world issues and all."

George grimaced. "Yes, then she happened to bring up that she was a die-hard Falmouth Falcons fan."

Katie and Oliver both straightened in their seats in understanding. The Falcons were a British Quidditch team known for their particularly violent manner of play. They were pretty well universally disliked for this reason, though Falcon fans were often amongst the most passionate and outspoken supporters. More than a few dozen fan brawls had ended rather badly at various tournaments, often started by Falcon fans.

"My dear brother here was rightfully unhappy to learn this little factoid and was attempting to politely bring the outing to a close, when she started in insulting nearly every other team. He tried to leave and she told him – "

"Yelled for the whole place to hear, rather," Lee put in. Apparently he and Vicki had come up for air at this point.

"That I shouldn't be getting so defensive over something as trivial as Quidditch," George continued for Fred. "Hypocritical at best, for then she tried to argue that not only were the Falcons wrongfully disqualified from the '68 Cup, but that Puddlemere was a washed pile of nobodies and should never have conquered Plymouth for the '84 Cup!"

Oliver had already been bristling at George's date's remark about Quidditch being "trivial" but flared up even more at the rest as his friend relayed it.

"She's mental!" Katie piped up hotly. "There's a very long list of reasons as to why the Falcons should've been disqualified sooner than they were in the '68 Cup and frankly there's been a lot of other tournaments they should never have been allowed to participate in!"

"And Puddlemere is a decent, accomplished team!" said Oliver. "They're one of the teams I'm planning on applying to!"

"_I _didn't say it," George reminded them defensively.

The group proceeded to launch into a fairly lengthy discussion about the Falcons, Puddlemere, Plymouth and Quidditch in general and didn't remember their earlier train of conversation until Patricia Stimpson, a Gryffindor in the same year as Lee and the twins (and generally on friendly terms with the group), interjected, "You've been literally talking about Quidditch for the past half hour straight. Is that all you lot care about?"

They all turned to her with varied looks of irritation and incredulity, and nearly in unison said, "Yes!"

Patricia blinked and turned away looking a touch offended.

"Anyways, where were we?" asked Fred.

"The disaster date. Kelsey's a Falcons fan." Lee put in helpfully.

"Right. Well, they were yelling at each other by that point, and your Lauren was whining about you leaving to my Stephanie," Fred explained. "And then Vicki overhead something in George and Kelsey's fight and they started going at it, and I tried to intervene and Stephanie made some underhanded remark about _my_ atrocious friends and _their_ hideous manners…"

"Then Fred joined in," Lee picked up the thread of the story. "Trying to tell Stephanie off for insulting _his_ friends when _hers_ were clearly the problematic ones, and then Lauren was pretending to be so incredibly devastated over your rather hasty departure, and she was whining to me and bad mouthing you, and…"

"Apparently we were being incredibly disruptive. All seven us were thrown out of Puddifoot's and we were all riled up so we may have said some things to them that did the throwing and we earned ourselves a six-month ban each for our trouble." Fred finished with a wide Weasley twin smile.

Katie was laughing behind her hand and Oliver couldn't help but join in as he imagined the twins, Lee, Lauren and their respective dates yelling and being forcibly removed from the ridiculously decorated Madame Puddifoot's. It was even more amusing that the seven of them had been given figurative restraining orders from the little café.

"I'm glad I left when I did. And if she was a Falcons fan, you absolutely cannot blame the whole disaster on me." Oliver laughed. "If I'd have stayed, I'd have been thrown out with the rest of you lot."

The group continued to laugh about the absurdity of the failed quadruple date and banter about other less entertaining subjects all throughout the rest of the Halloween feast. Oliver wished he had a never-ending appetite so that he might enjoy everything on the table several more times. He felt rather like exploding by the time it was over as it was.

He enjoyed the sight of the various decorations too: bats and long, brilliant orange streamers flitted and flew high above them, mingling with the hundreds of candles that cast a glorious orange-yellow glow on everything in the Hall. Not only was the ceiling wonderful to behold, it was a magical miracle that none of the streamers caught on fire.

When the feast had ended, Oliver joined the rest of the Gryffindors as they jovially and raucously made their way up to the Tower. When he and his friends made it to the portrait hole, they were surprised to discover all the students who'd been ahead of them gathered at the door and blocking the way. Everyone was bumping around in confusion, trying to see what exactly was going on, as more and more students jammed up the corridor behind Oliver and his friends. He tried to peer over the heads of the students, and though he was tall, there were too many students in front of him and in front of the Fat Lady, he couldn't see much of anything at all.

"What is it? What's happening?" Katie asked behind Oliver.

"I can't see," he said and was jostled aside as Percy shoved his way through the crowd.

"Let me through, please," he said and a path was more or less cleared for him as he went. "What's the hold-up here? You can't all have forgotten the password – excuse me, I'm Head Boy – "

The crowd had parted just enough that Oliver could see the portrait now. A shiver ran down his spine and for a moment he wasn't sure what he was seeing. Everyone else seemed to be having the same reaction, for nearly at the same instant, a wave of silence spread through the students from the front to the rear, the buzz and whispers dying instantly.

"Somebody get Professor Dumbledore." Percy said sharply. "Quick."

Oliver glanced back and saw a few first years at the back take off down the hallway. He felt Katie clutch his sleeve and he looked down at her. She was as pale and frightened as he felt. The Fat Lady was gone from her portrait, and for good reason: the canvas had been savagely ripped to shreds. Long pieces of the wrecked painting were scattered across the floor.

It was only moments before Professor Dumbledore arrived and hurried amongst the students, directly to the portrait. Professors McGonagall, Snape and Lupin were not far behind him.

"We need to find her," Dumbledore stated at once. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."

"You'll be lucky!" an annoying voice from above their heads sneered with amusement. Oliver and everyone else turned quickly to see Peeves the poltergeist flitting and beaming.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" Dumbledore asked evenly, in no mood for games.

The grin on Peeves' face lessened, as even he would not mock Dumbledore. Instead of his usual taunting tone, he adopted a slippery one which was really no better.

"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between trees. Crying something dreadful," Peeves explained, sounding quite amused by the whole thing. "Poor thing," he added, though he clearly didn't mean it.

"Did she say who did it?" the Headmaster questioned in a low voice.

"Oh yes, Professor Head," Peeves continued. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see. Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

* * *

Following that rather unnerving revelation from the poltergeist, Oliver and the rest of the Gryffindors were hastily ushered back down to the Great Hall by Dumbledore and the other Professors. Shortly after that, the rest of the students from Hufflepuff, Slytherin and Ravenclaw were brought in as well, most in a state of worried bewilderment. Various Gryffindors darted to their friends in other houses to whisper what had just happened.

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," said Dumbledore in a ringing voice as Professors Flitwick and McGonagall shut the Hall doors. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want Prefects to stand guard over entrances to the Hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately. Send word with one of the ghosts."

The last part Dumbledore addressed directly to Percy as the other students in the Hall exchanged alarmed glances. Just as Dumbledore headed for the door, he stopped and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing…"

He flicked his wand which sent the House Tables speeding away, and another flick filled the Hall with hundreds of large purple sleeping bags for every student.

"Sleep well." He exited the Hall with the other Professors.

Immediately following their departure, the noise level in the Hall increased abruptly as everyone began talking hurriedly about what was happening. Denise wove through the crowd to Oliver and Katie's side.

"What's going on?" she demanded in a trembling voice. "What are the teachers searching the castle for? Do you know?"

Before Oliver or Katie had a chance to answer, however, Percy hollered over the noise, "Everyone into their sleeping bags! Come on now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes."

"No more talking – right." Katie rolled her eyes.

The trio proceeded to snatch up some sleeping bags and made their way quickly over to a far wall where Alicia, Angelina, Lee and the twins were already gathering. Their group quickly began buzzing about the night's events and filled Denise in. The noise level in the Hall indicated everyone else was doing the same despite Percy's snappy declaration of no more talking.

Denise was no less nervous and pale as the group talked, each throwing about ideas about how Black could have possibly gotten in to the castle.

"He couldn't have Apparated," said Oliver.

"Flooed maybe?" offered Alicia.

"We know about some passageways, maybe he found one of those," George suggested with a shrug, though he seemed to find the idea unlikely. Oliver figured it was a good a guess as any.

"Maybe he _flew_ in…" Denise murmured.

"What about all the extra protection around the school? And the Dementors?" Katie reminded them and Oliver's stomach gave a nasty jolt just thinking of the hateful creatures. He'd forgotten about them.

"But why Gryffindor Tower?" asked Lee. "And why Halloween night? Maybe because we were all down in the Hall?"

They only had time for a few more minutes of fruitless speculation before Percy suddenly bellowed, "The lights are going out now! I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

The candles in the Hall were simultaneously snuffed out like they'd been blown out on a giant birthday cake. The buzz of excited and worried talking dropped to whispering, but there was certainly still a lot of it. It seemed he was not the only one not yet ready to stop and go to sleep.

Professors checked in regularly, the ghosts drifted back and forth like giant glowing night lights. Lee would cough loudly to signify Percy's approach and the group would cease chatting, only to resume once Percy was far enough away. Twice they were told off for still being awake by the Head Boy, and eventually the rest of the group finally began to grow tired, the adrenaline of the night's events leaving their bodies.

Fred and George started alternately snoring loudly whenever Percy came close and Oliver had to muffle his laughter and feign sleep whenever the twins were snarked at by their brother. After three consecutive tries, however, Percy gave up trying to control his brothers and patrolled elsewhere. The twins grew bored and soon their breathing became deep and rhythmic like the others around them.

Oliver fell asleep sometime around then.

* * *

**A/n:** Thanks for reading. Reviews appreciated muchly. :D


	13. Change in Tactics

**A/n:** Can I just how much fun it would be to sleep in the Great Hall under the magic ceiling in big sleeping bags? Granted the circumstances aren't fun, but you know.

* * *

**Chapter 13 - Change in Tactics  
**

He was shifting his position and woke slightly. As he did, he realized Dumbledore had entered the Hall and was talking in low voices with Snape and Percy. Immediately feeling awake and curious, he wondered how he could possibly get a little more within earshot. He was hoping to learn if the Fat Lady had been found and if she would remain the guardian of Gryffindor Tower, and of course, if they had found Black or not.

It wasn't easy because the Hall was packed with students and he couldn't let himself be spotted. Still, he didn't have far to go as he was already near enough to hear a low murmur of voices, so he inched his way across the floor between sleeping bodies as quietly as possible, using his elbows.

He finally started to catch bits and pieces, and though he strained to hear more so he could properly make sense of what he was hearing, he didn't dare go any closer.

"Theory… how… Professor?" Snape was asking.

There was a cough and rustling nearby, just loud enough to cover Dumbeldore's quiet reply. Oliver held his breath, trying to hear more.

"…start of term?"

"I do, Severus."

"…impossible… help… concerns…" Snape spoke softly.

"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it." Dumbledore's tone was clear and a touch louder, leaving no room for argument.

Oliver was glad he had heard that much but wondered how it could possibly be suspected that someone was actually _helping_ Black. Even someone as horrible as Flint, for example. Oliver couldn't stand him but couldn't see him letting an escaped murderer in the front door. He then thought that he was perhaps being too trusting, too glass-half-full. But Dumbledore had just stated no one in the castle could be responsible and if Dumbledore said it with such conviction, he couldn't help but agree.

He missed the rest of what the Headmaster was saying as well as Percy's quiet reply. He did however manage to catch the last of what Dumbledore had to say before he exited the Hall.

"Oh yes. But I'm afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of the castle while I am Headmaster."

Oliver inadvertently shivered. _Thank goodness for Dumbledore._

Though he didn't learn anything specific about the Fat Lady nor Black, the discussion was apparently over. He resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't be learning anything tonight after all and attempted to make his way back to his friends.

It was difficult to discern which way he'd come, having been previously only focused on getting closer. Though his eyes were adjusted to the near darkness of the Hall, semi-illuminated by the occasional ghost and the stars on the ceiling, with hundreds of sleeping bodies in the same purple sleeping bags, he figured it was going to be tough to find exactly where he'd been sleeping before.

He was wiggling between a pair of students when one rolled over to look right at him. He hastened out a whispered apology, not really looking, and then she sat up slightly.

"Oliver? Is that you?"

He stopped and turned. "Audrey?"

She sighed a bit in a sort of exasperated way he didn't understand and he could've sworn he'd heard her hiss "Seriously?" under her breath but it was hard to tell as she shifted and rustled her sleeping bag so she was lying on her side, her head at the same end of her sleeping bag as he was in his.

"Alright?" she said, a touch awkwardly.

He nodded. "Did you overhear any of that just now?" He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at Percy, where he'd been previously standing with Snape and Dumbledore.

"Most of it." Audrey shrugged. "I've been awake the whole time. Can't seem to sleep."

"I was sleeping by my friends somewhere, but I can't seem to figure out which way I came from." He said softly, feeling quite silly. It wasn't as though it'd been far, yet he'd still managed to get himself turned around.

"Ah, so that inchworm was you?" she smiled just a touch with amusement. When he gave her a nod, she pointed off to the right of where they were now. "Just over there, I think. I was wondering who was trying to get closer to the action."

He chuckled quietly. "Curiosity killed the cat."

"Or the Keeper, as the case may be." She whispered back. "Watch that Head Boy doesn't nab you on your way back. He can get awfully shirty, that one."

"That he can." He gave her a smile and began inching and weaving his way back through the sleeping bags. It took longer than it should have, and he had to drop and pretend to be sleeping twice when Percy started coming closer, but eventually he was back amongst his friends. He gave a thought to how odd it felt to see Audrey be friendly with him, and then he was asleep again.

* * *

Over the next several days, it seemed everyone in the entire school had nothing better to talk about than Sirius Black and the incident the night of Halloween. The Fat Lady had been temporarily replaced by Sir Cadogan, an aggressive and extremely annoying knight who changed the password constantly. The weather became rainier and rainier, making Quidditch practices less pleasant and much dirtier. On top of the unfortunate weather, Gryffindor's practices were now being supervised by Madame Hooch.

When Oliver frustratedly questioned Madame Hooch as to why it was suddenly necessary, all he received was a very curt reply.

"It's a matter of safety, Wood!" she snapped. "And I'll hear nothing else about it or you won't be practicing at all."

Oliver pressed his lips together tightly to stop himself from retorting – he found it highly unlikely Black would leap out of the stands and hex them during a Quidditch practice – and stalked back to the locker rooms. Gryffindor's next match was coming up soon and the team needed all the practice they could get, especially since that match happened to be against Slytherin.

* * *

Two days before the match, Oliver was feeling confident in his team's chances against Slytherin. They'd been practicing a number of new moves to counter Slytherin's usual style of play and though the weather was still quite wretched, Gryffindor had a better track record in bad weather than Slytherin did.

He was on his way to the pitch from his last class of the day when a rude tap (that was really more of a punch) hit him in the shoulder. Oliver turned.

"How's it going, Woody?" Marcus Flint sneered, looking altogether too gleeful for Oliver's taste.

"What do you want?" he asked, immediately suspicious.

"I wanted to be the first one to tell you the news," said Flint. "We're _unfortunately_ not going to be able to play your sodding team on Saturday."

"Oh really? Why is that?" Oliver crossed his arms over his chest, irritation coiling inside of him. _It's because of the weather,_ he thought. _Coward knows his chances aren't great in torrential rain._

Flint adopted a sympathetic look on his face that was plainly fake. "Our poor Seeker is still quite injured, you see. Seeker with a bad arm can't rightly play, now can he?"

Oliver clenched his jaw. He'd already heard about Draco Mafloy's supposed injury during Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class, where a Hippogriff apparently slashed him. Having encountered Malfoy on more than one occasion and having heard the story directly from Fred's brother Ron who'd witnessed the "injury", however, Oliver knew that the injury was extremely minor at best. Certainly not enough to warrant the bandages he'd been sporting and _certainly_ not enough to prevent him from playing in the upcoming match.

"It's convenient you're just telling me this _now_," Oliver fumed. "I suppose his arm will be suddenly much better when the sun comes out, won't it?"

Flint shrugged, still grinning unpleasantly. "I'm no doctor, Woody, I can't say. Have a good game with _Hufflepuff._" He laughed and walked away arrogantly.

If Oliver had been someplace where he could've gotten away with it, he reckoned he'd have hexed Flint into the next century at that moment. Since there happened to be other students and Professors everywhere, however, that was quite out of the action. With an angry shake of his head, Oliver turned on his heel and pushed his way through the corridors and out of the school in a fiery brood. The rain splashed down mightily, soaking him through in seconds, but he didn't notice.

_Of course they won't play!_ He thought furiously, getting angrier the more he thought about Flint's feeble excuse for bowing out of Saturday's match. _He knows we've been practicing hard, knows we've got the stuff to beat them. They know we only have one practice left to switch tactics…_ These thoughts were followed by an uncharacteristic string of internal curses which ironically coincided with a deep roll of thunder.

_Injured Seeker, my Quaffle,_ he thought fiercely.

Though Oliver was on friendly terms with Cedric Diggory and had played against him in various matches over the years, he'd yet to face him as the new Captain of the Hufflepuff team. He had no idea what kind of tactics Cedric might employ or how his style was going to be. Had he more time, Oliver would be able to work out a more general and adaptable set of plays instead of the specific and targeted ones he'd had his team going over for the match against Slytherin.

Once at the pitch, Oliver sourly changed out of his sopping wet robes and into dry Quidditch ones though they were about to be drenched soon too. He waited patiently for his team, pacing and cursing Flint and Hufflepuff the whole time.

Flint knew exactly what he was doing with this little stunt, Oliver knew. With just one practice before the match on Saturday, there wasn't time to try new moves or to start over with a whole new set of plays. It was like he'd spent weeks training his team to defend against seven miniature trolls and now he had just a few hours to get them to forget that and defend against seven kelpies instead.

Oliver groaned and buried his head in the palms of his hands.

Shortly, he heard voices and his team started to arrive. George, Katie and Alicia arrived first, having quite a jolly conversation until they spotted their unusually grim Captain who was staring moodily into space.

"Oliver, you alright?" asked Alicia.

"I'll tell you when you're all here." He answered.

The other three exchanged curious and concerned glances before getting into their Quidditch robes. Moments later, Fred and Angelina came bursting in, soaking wet and flushed. George eyed his twin with a knowing smirk while Katie and Alicia murmured and giggled. Fred leaned in and whispered something in Angelina's ear, earning him a swat on the chest as she hurried to a change room, visibly embarrassed.

Once Harry had arrived and everyone was changed and ready, all eyes turned to Oliver. He'd calmed himself down significantly since his encounter with Flint, but as he stood before his team, his previous frustration burst out of him as soon as he spoke.

"We're not playing Slytherin! Flint told me. We're playing Hufflepuff instead."

His team wasn't happy about the prospect either, knowing how hard they'd been working, and even less so when Oliver explained Flint's flimsy reasoning. Oliver lamented that Cedric was Hufflepuff's new captain and at the mention of his name, his three female Chasers abruptly giggled.

"He's the tall, good-looking one, isn't he?" Angelina smiled.

"Strong and silent," Katie added, sending the three girls into a fit of giggles.

George scowled. "He's only silent because he's too thick to string two words together," he said edgily and Angelina glared at him. He continued a moment later, "I don't know why you're worried, Oliver, Hufflepuff are a pushover. Last time we played them, Harry caught the Snitch in about five minutes, remember?"

Following this statement, Oliver found himself shouting at his team about how everything was different and there simply wasn't enough time to completely redo their game strategy. His team calmed him and he flushed with a touch of embarrassment following his rant. This was his last year for the Cup and he just _couldn't_ lose. He hoped they understood that and didn't think he was too much of a raving fool when it came to Quidditch matches such as these.

As his team filed outside into the downpour, George patted his friend's shoulder reassuringly. "Relax, mate. We know."

Oliver smiled wryly.

"Look, we use some Porskoff Ploys, that version of the Woollongong Shimmy we've been working on, toss in a Hawkshead and a Bernese Flip, Harry'll catch the snitch and Bob's your uncle." George gave his friend a hearty slap on the back and mounted his broom, joining his brother in the murky sky.

Oliver sighed and as he ascended to meet his team, he could feel the anger and worry sliding off of him with the rain.

_They're right,_ he thought. _It _is_ only Hufflepuff._

* * *

**A/n:** Ominous foreshadowing? Well, you've read POA or you wouldn't here. Thanks for reading – reviews can be lovely or not, they're still wanted.


	14. It's Only Hufflepuff

**A/n:** Once again I'm borrowing from canon, though I'm slowly integrating my own style. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 14 - It's Only Hufflepuff  
**

On Friday, the weather was, if possible, worse. The rain pounded like hammers on the roof and the wind was doing its best to blow the entire castle down.

Oliver's worry over the following day's match increased and he found he simply could not stop thinking about it at all times of the day. When he saw Cedric in the halls between classes, he found himself studying him critically as if that would help him determine how Cedric would lead his team. Oliver took to randomly interrogating Hufflepuff students, trying to determine who the Hufflepuff captain had put on his house team and why.

He also would stop his own team members in the corridors between classes, trying to give them more advice on what to watch for, who to watch for, this play or that play and so on. He was being rather over the top about it, but couldn't help feeling he had missed something critical.

Katie listened to his advice with a glazed look in her eye, nodding steadily and then interrupting him before she was late for class. Angelina told him she knew it all already and they'd be _fine_ and could he _please_ stop pulling her aside because it was annoying. The twins relentlessly cracked jokes, interrupted, made fun of, talked over and otherwise good-naturedly harassed him in order to get him to lighten up and cease grabbing them for last minute advice. Alicia, having heard Oliver was on a Quidditch-obsessed war path from the others, avoided Oliver like the plague, ducking out of his way and breathlessly spouting something about a pressing emergency anywhere else. Harry would listen and uneasily check his watch and more than once had to bolt to avoid being late.

Oliver's general distraction with the following day's match and his inattentiveness in class earned him a hefty pile of homework as a result. After supper as he exited the Hall with Katie and Denise and was griping about all he had to do, Denise kindly offered to give him a hand.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Katie warned. "He's been a rather foul, overly talkative mood today."

"Ha ha," said Oliver with little humor. To Denise, he smiled and said, "That'd be really great, thanks."

Her cheeks became pinker as she returned the smile. "You're welcome."

* * *

With Denise helping him and by extension taking his mind off the impending match, Oliver made easy work of his assignments (though left the 2 scroll essay for Ancient Runes for later). He and Denise continued to laugh and chat long after they'd completed his work until Madame Pince began giving them sharp glances and making comments about the time of day. The pair realized it had gotten quite late and quickly packed up and headed out into the corridor beyond the Library.

"Sorry I kept you so late," said Oliver.

"I didn't notice what time it was either," replied Denise. "At least we got all your work done."

"Yes, and it was actually fun. Took my mind off Quidditch for a while, which is hard to do." He laughed.

"I had fun too. It's not often we hang out without Katie too."

"True. Well, we should do it again sometime." he suggested.

Denise's cheeks became a little pinker as they had earlier as she answered, "Definitely."

The pair parted ways and headed to their respective dorms. Once changed and crawling between the covers, Oliver's worries about the match came flooding back over him. Denise had provided a good distraction but now his mind was back to running in full Night-Before-The-Match mode and he couldn't shut it off. Eventually he fell into a fitful sleep, full of strange dreams involving Bludgers five times larger than normal, getting struck by lightning while playing Quidditch in a storm and a number of other equally disturbing things.

* * *

It was barely five in the morning when Oliver woke with lurch, having just been dreaming he'd been cemented to his bed and the team was forced to go without a Keeper, while Audrey delivered excessively scathing commentary and his entire team became near-fatally injured in one way or another. He calmed his heart rate by triple-checking his clock was indeed working and matched the time on Percy's clock a nightstand over, then by swinging his legs out from under his covers to ensure they had not been cemented there.

Knowing there was no chance he was going to get any more sleep, he dressed quietly so as not to disturb his still slumbering dorm mates and after retrieving his broom cleaning kit and broom, settled cross-legged on his bed. Though there was hardly any point, as in just a few hours the broom would be soaking wet and mud splattered, cleaning it was a task the required just enough distraction that he didn't have to dwell fully on the match in just a few hours.

About an hour before breakfast, Percy's alarm clock went off loudly, startling Oliver. Something he found quite astonishing, mostly because he knew he'd never be able to do it, was watching how Percy got up. The alarm blared; Percy rolled over, turned it off, sat up, and climbed out of bed. Just like that. Oliver blinked and stared.

"What?" Percy grumbled when he noticed Oliver staring.

"You didn't hit _snooze_, not even once," he said, his tone part impressed and part incredulous.

"And?"

Oliver shrugged, returning to finishing up his broom maintenance. "It's not normal, Perce, but I should hardly be expecting anything else from you." He chuckled.

The red-head snorted in irritation and left the dorm to get ready for the day.

* * *

At breakfast, the twins were digging in like it was the last meal of their life. Most of the rest of his team had managed to eat something, even Harry who Oliver knew also suffered from pre-game jitters. He, however, could find no appetite since his stomach felt quite full of knots and nerves. It didn't matter that he'd played hundreds of games, he still always felt nauseous and uneasy before a match.

Alicia glanced at him. "Stop worrying, Oliver. We don't mind a bit of rain."

Oliver raised his eyebrow sceptically at her comment while Angelina snorted in her cup and Fred laughed out right.

"Of course, nothing but a wee fall shower," he said sarcastically. "Hardly anything."

"We'll hardly get damp, I'd wager," George added in similar tones.

Oliver couldn't help cracking a smile as the wind and rain outside continued to batter the Hall.

"See? That's the spirit." Alicia chuckled.

"Good luck to all of you," Lee said between mouthfuls of eggs. "You are _going to_ need it."

* * *

He was aware he was supposed to be giving them some sort of excellent, optimistic and energetic pre-game pep talk. As his team regarded him expectantly, however, he found that the knots in his stomach had multiplied tenfold, compounded with his general worry about the match. He really had no words that could brighten the situation, so he shrugged and made for the door, gesturing them to follow. He took a deep breath and braced himself before stepping out into the slicing rain and growling thunder.

The wind blew so hard that walking was like fighting for the right to stand. Everything was murky and streaked, the stands were no more than tall blurs in the vague distance. In the approximate center of the field, the two teams met Madame Hooch and the two Captains shook hands. Cedric offered him a small "good luck" type of smile and Oliver, feeling overcome with nerves, nodded much more curtly than he'd intended and then mounted his broom. He had to strain to hear Madame Hooch's whistle though she was not very far away.

As he pulled away from the ground and into the air, the knots in his stomach untangled swiftly. His despair and worry began to dissolve and all that mattered was playing hard in the pounding weather. He sped to the goal posts and readied himself for a tough match.

Oliver did his best to keep his eye on everything, but with the extreme weather he could see very little nor could he hear any of Lee's commentary and it bothered him greatly. He worked to keep himself especially focused since the reduced visibility was certainly going to affect his ability to keep the Quaffle away from the goal posts. If he took a minute to squint and drift slightly more into the field, he could just barely make out the scoreboard but the 8's looked like 3's or 0's so he wasn't completely positive if his team was up by thirty or eighty, or if they were up at all. He dared not fly any farther away from the posts however, especially since he could see smudged yellow figures making their way in his direction.

"_Head's up!_" Oliver heard the voice bellow somewhere off to his right and ducked just in time to miss a Bludger.

Fred flew in close. "Thirty up!" He shouted over the roar of the storm.

Oliver gestured that he understood and Fred took off after the Bludger.

The yellow robed players closed in, holding a tight formation and keeping the Quaffle moving between them. Angelina was in behind them but couldn't get a clear shot at stealing or blocking. Katie circled below hoping for a dropped pass. The dark-haired player caught the ball and headed straight and fast for the far left hoop. Oliver kept his eye on her fair-haired companion as he went to meet the first player. At the last second, the player with Quaffle tossed over Angelina's head to the fair-haired player who only barely caught it when it veered in the wind. He tossed to the far right.

Oliver swung around, throwing his weight forward and trying to intercept. He clutched his broom with his knees and extended both arms but he was just a few inches too far off and it brushed past him, sailing through the hoop. He shook the wet hair out of his eyes in frustration.

_Make that thirty-ten._ He thought, mentally giving himself a kick.

For the next several plays, Oliver managed a few really excellent saves and a few easy ones. He struggled to shout directions or encouragements to his team when they flew close enough as his throat became hoarse from the effort. He also had difficulty keeping tabs on the score which unnerved him. The whole game thus far felt horribly disorienting and though Oliver suspected he was doing as well as could be expected, he still knew he needed to check in with his team properly.

He dodged a Bludger, barely missing it, and when George flew close Oliver got his attention. George flew directly to Madame Hooch to deliver the Keeper's message for a time-out, and then Oliver could see her blowing her whistle and waving her arms for the game to pause. He left the goal posts and swiftly flew down to the edge of the pitch, waving at the others as he went.

An oversized black umbrella hovered magically nearby and Oliver gestured for his team to get under it. He and the others were all freezing, panting and completely drenched to the bone.

"What's the score?" asked Harry urgently at once.

"We're fifty points up," answered Oliver. "But unless we get the Snitch soon, we're going to playing all night. It's impossible out there."

"Well, I've got no chance with these," said Harry, indicating his glasses. "Can't see a bloody thing."

As if by divine intervention, Harry's friend Hermione Granger seemed to appear out of nowhere, running towards them with a big grin on her face.

"I've an idea, Harry!" she said the moment she reached them and pulled her wand out of her robes. "We should've thought of this sooner – hand me your glasses, quick!"

Harry obeyed. Hermione pointed her wand at his glasses and said, "_Impervius_!"

"There," she said as she passed the glasses back to Harry. "Now they'll repel water!"

Oliver felt like hugging her for her stroke of genius. "Brilliant!" he exclaimed. He was almost going to ask her if the spell would work on his face too, but thought that this might not be the best time to test it out. "Okay, team, let's go for it!"

Seeming to feel a touch rejuvenated after their time-out, the team took to the skies again, going back to battle with the ferocious rain. Thunder and lightning began to increase in volume and frequency, making Oliver jumpy, thinking that one of his nightmares about getting struck would shortly be coming true. They played on.

As the Gryffindor Chasers sped away down the pitch, Angelina having used a slick manoeuvre to gain control of the Quaffle, Oliver glanced at the rest of his team. Fred and George appeared to be in a Bludger war with the other team's Beaters, and Katie and Alicia were just reddish blobs in the distance. As his eyes were jumping about looking for Harry, he caught sight of Cedric speeding away like a bullet. A ripple of panic went through him when he saw Harry far above, frozen and staring in the stands.

Oliver cupped his hands and yelled as hard as he could, "_Harry! Behind you!"_

Thankfully he must have heard the Keeper, as he whipped around and took off after Cedric. Oliver tried to watch while keeping his eye out for incoming yellow-robed Chasers, when something else stole his attention. The thunder suddenly quieted unnaturally and though the wind was still blowing hard enough to shove him off his broom, he couldn't really hear it. The rain crashing down in torrential sheets was barely audible, and as cold and wet as he'd felt before, it was nothing compared to the ice that felt as though it were forming on his insides.

_Merlin, no!_ His mind flashed back to the moment on the train when his breath seemed to freeze in his chest. He dropped his eyes and immediately understood why he suddenly was feeling quite immobile.

The pitch was a rolling sea of black Dementors, waving their robed arms at the sky and sucking up any pinprick of warmth that had been remaining. Oliver's hand felt frozen to his broom in a white-knuckle grip and his jaw was clenching so tight it hurt.

_Make it stop, make it stop…_

The rain felt like it was cutting at his exposed skin and he felt rigid as if made of ice. He shut his eyes, trying to remember anything good. Horrible emotions pounded through him, bad memories, things his imagination put together to make him suffer…

_Slytherin was holding the Cup… Flint was smug, pointing, hurling insults and wallowing in his glory…_

_Death, shame, regret, anger, greed…_

_A Bludger crashed into his face… he was shouting, making someone cry…he cheated, he yelled, he lost, he failed, he gave up… he watched her walk away in tears and didn't say he was sorry… he failed, he failed, over and over…_

He grit his teeth, digging deep to find any shred of hope and happiness. _I will not give up._ He thought. For the tiniest of instants, the feeling of adrenaline, relief and calm that came over him whenever he was flying on the pitch sparked in him. It was so small, but it was enough. He didn't know how he'd done it, but the thought broke into the penetrating and engulfing cold like a shard of sunlight and he was able to open his eyes.

Though the moment had seemed to stretch on, it had truly been just a couple seconds. As he opened his eyes, his gaze flicked upwards, catching on the sight of his Seeker plummeting to the ground. His hands felt hard and clumsy as if seized with severe frostbite as he tried to scramble for his wand.

"Harry!"

For an instant, he thought he was about to witness a death on the Quidditch pitch because he and everyone else had been mentally seized by the Dementors and unable to react fast enough. Nearly at the moment that Oliver had thought that and was only just reaching his wand, Dumbledore was already on his feet and on the pitch.

Harry's body slowed in mid-air to land on the muddy ground with an uncomfortable thud as opposed to a fatal smash. Dumbledore was in a state Oliver had never seen him: waving his wand and sending off multiple Patronous charms in every direction. He looked somehow on fire and his eyes were positively blazing. The charms were so many and so bright Oliver almost had to look away and cover his eyes.

The Dementors scattered immediately and retreated even faster. Other Professors came running on to the pitch at this point and quickly tended to Harry, hurrying him off to the Hospital Wing. Oliver flew to the ground, full of an odd stinging, chilly numbness he had grown to associate with post-Dementor encounters. The roar of the weather had returned with the departure of the hated creatures and Oliver finally noticed its return as he hit the ground with knees that felt like jelly. He covered his face with his hands.

_We lost._

* * *

**A/n:** Ouch. That was a tough one. I'm not a big fan of writing the Quidditch sequences, which I suppose at this point makes it kind of ironic that I chose to do such an Oliver-centric story. Anyways, thanks for reading! Reviews = love.


	15. Aftermath

"_Where is Wood?" said Harry, suddenly realizing he wasn't there._

"_Still in the showers," said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself."_

_-POA, page 180_

* * *

**Chapter 15 - Aftermath  
**

In the locker room showers, Oliver let the hot water beat a rhythm into his back. It was so hot it stung but it felt welcome after the intense cold he'd experienced out on the pitch. There was still a spot of numbness that refused to dissipate no matter how long he stood there. He kept his eyes shut and inhaled the steam.

He'd known it was going to happen, known it all along. He'd had a gut feeling and his gut feelings were rarely wrong.

Alright, so maybe he hadn't known all of it. He couldn't have anticipated that hundreds of Dementors would swarm the pitch like that or that because of their effects on people, his Seeker would fall fifty feet off his broom. He couldn't have guessed that he would've ever had the chance to see Dumbledore in such a scarily awesome display of rage or that Harry's perfectly beautiful broom would get swept away by the wind straight into the very angry arms of the Whomping Willow. And he couldn't have predicted that Cedric would have so gallantly fought for and insisted on a rematch when he'd won fair and square.

He couldn't help a small smile at the memory. Cedric had argued with Madame Hooch and even his own teammates for a rematch. Oliver couldn't deny that he wanted one, but Cedric had caught the Snitch and won the game, and that was that. Besides, Oliver couldn't help but think that had roles been reversed, he probably wouldn't be asking for a rematch though he'd like to think he would.

Still, after all that, he _had_ had the gut feeling that they were going to lose, and they had. So technically, he'd known it all along.

Oliver sighed heavily and rubbed his hands over his face. He wished he'd been the one to fall off the broom, as then he'd be able to blame himself for the loss. Not that he blamed Harry, because it wasn't like Harry was weak or had done it on purpose. No, he was angry with the Dementors for showing up and wreaking havoc. He managed to be angry with himself for not coming up with some sort of contingency plan to cover such an occurrence.

For the better part of an hour, he'd been running the match over in his mind, trying to see every angle and see where he went wrong. Had there been better plays for his Chasers to use to gain more goals? Did he not utilize Fred and George enough? He tried to pick out the flaws in his own playing and being too much of perfectionist when it came to himself, found a long list. In fact, the longer he stood in the hot shower, the more he convinced himself that _he_ was the one to blame for the loss.

He finally exited the shower and wondered idly if anyone had noticed he had not yet returned to the castle. He had just donned his boxer shorts in the change room when the door to the locker room opened and slammed shut with a loud bang. He heard a rain coat being shaken out and then a soft cough.

"Oliver?"

"Hello?"

"You okay?"

Oliver grunted. He wrapped a towel around his waist over his boxers as he said unconvincingly, "Yes, I'm fine." He ventured out into the main part of the locker room.

"I just came to – oh!" Denise started but stopped when she laid eyes on Oliver. Her eyes widened and her cheeks flared brightly as she glanced away. "Sorry, I, uh, should've warned you."

He couldn't help a chuckle as he watched her uncomfortably shielding her eyes. "It's alright, I have my boxers on underneath."

He could see her forehead crinkle behind her hand. "You… shower in your boxer shorts?"

He laughed. "No, I don't walk around wearing _just_ them is all."

"Oh," Denise cautiously lifted her hand away from her eyes.

"Hold on," Oliver went back to the change room and slid trousers over his boxers. He brought the towel back with him to dry his hair. "Better?"

Denise was still oddly quite pink in the face as she replied, "Yes."

He bent down to roughly towel dry his hair and when he stood up, Denise was biting her lip, looking oddly uncomfortable. He was about to ask her if everything was alright when she beat him to it.

"Everybody's worried. The rest of the team went to visit Harry."

"How is he?"

"Sad about his broom, Katie said. But good otherwise. He seems okay."

"I expect so. It was a bloody amazing broom." Oliver paused. "I'm glad he's alright – that was a long ways to fall off a broom."

Denise nodded in agreement.

Oliver sighed and sat down hard on the bench. "I… I just feel like… it's my fault." He clenched his jaw. He usually kept his feelings to himself, but he was feeling raw after that brutal match. He hadn't expected to tell her anything about the thoughts he'd had in the shower, but it'd just come spilling out and now he couldn't stop. "I should've… well, there were a lot of things I should've done right _before_ the Dementors got there, and I didn't. If we could've had more of a leg up on them, then maybe it wouldn't have mattered that… and I just…"

"Oliver, how can you think for one minute that anything out there today was _your_ fault?" Denise asked incredulously.

"I let that goal in, and – "

"Did you happen to notice the literal hurricane that was occurring during that game by any chance?" she asked sharply.

"Of course I noticed," he snapped back.

"Well it's a wonder that any one of you managed to stay on your bloody broom let alone play the stupid sodding game." She said with such conviction he couldn't help but feel better. He supposed she was right.

"And just explain to me for one second how you've got it in your thick skull that Harry's fall and the Dementors are your fault as well." She crossed her arms over her chest challengingly.

He sighed for what felt like the hundredth time. He barely got the word "I" out when Denise swiftly cut him off.

"It _wasn't_ your fault. You hear me Oliver Wood? There was _no_ way you could have possibly seen any of that coming nor prevented it from happening or saved Harry yourself, so _stop_ thinking you could have."

Oliver stared at his knee, processing her words. For a few seconds of silence, Denise stayed angry and rigid and he remained silent. Then she relaxed and seemed to think she may have hurt his feelings and was about to apologize but he met her gaze and spoke first.

"Thanks," he said at least, and meant it. "I needed that."

She looked relieved and smiled. "You're welcome." Impulsively, she dropped her arms from their crossed position and proceeded to wrap them around him in a quick, sweet hug.

A bit surprised but nonetheless comforted and pleased by his friend's sudden gesture, he returned the hug until Denise broke away suddenly, blushing furiously and avoiding his eyes. He failed to see why the moment had become so uncomfortable all of the sudden and wondered why Denise was acting odd as she hopped up from the bench and went for her coat.

He grabbed his shirt from the bench and slipped it on. "C'mon," he said. "I'll grab the rest of my things and walk you to the castle."

* * *

Audrey and her friends were passing through the Entrance Hall when she caught sight of Oliver coming into the castle from being outside. She felt her heart flutter in her chest and she forgot herself for a moment, smiling when she saw him. Her smile was brief, however, as a blonde with long hair came stumbling right behind the Gryffindor Captain. She slid on her wet robes and he caught her before she fell and they laughed happily, wiping the rain from their faces.

Inexplicably, Audrey felt her chest suddenly tighten and she found herself wishing that horrible things would happen to that blonde girl. It wasn't fair that the blonde was walking away with him, grinning and giggling. It wasn't fair that Oliver didn't look Audrey's way, and it was especially unfair that Audrey found herself feeling this way at all. Why oh _why_ couldn't she simply banish her feelings for Wood?

"You know," Audrey said suddenly, cutting in to her friends' conversation about the dramatic match earlier. "I'm not feeling well, so you two go on to the Study Hall without me."

"You do look kind of pale," Danielle looked her friend over with concern. "You alright?"

"I'll be fine. See you later." She smiled tightly and hurried away, cursing emotion and hormones and the universe and the blonde and everything else she could think of.

* * *

_Dear Diary,_

_Okay, I'm making it weird. I told you earlier this week that I had decided to just remain friends with Oliver and not pursue any sort of romance. Not only because I broke up with Henry last summer – is a year too soon after you've dated for two? I still think about him sometimes. Is it weird that I still think of Henry when I feel like I'm falling for Oliver?_

_Anyways, I'm rambling. The point is, I'm not the forward, go- getter type – Henry was the one who pursued me, after all – so the idea of me trying to pursue romance with Oliver Wood, of all people, just seems like a disaster waiting to happen. I nearly blew it with Henry so many times as it is. (Ok, enough about Henry.)_

_Katie says I really overthink things and that's probably really true. An example of my overthinking would be today, after the disastrous Quidditch game (more on that later). I was worried about Oliver since he still hadn't come back to the castle about an hour and a half since the match had ended and the twins were going around joking he was drowning himself in the showers. When I came into the locker room, Oliver was shirtless and in a towel (and boxers apparently, and he put trousers on shortly after that). But after we talked for a bit, I hugged him – yes, he was still shirtless. _

_And while my arms were around him, my heart just started going a hundred miles a minute and I just had all these images of snogging Oliver and… well, suffice to say I was then all awkward and my face was hot and I was thinking about how idiotic I was being about this crush I have going on here. It was less awkward by the time we got back to the castle, soaking wet from all the rain, thankfully._

_I wish I knew how to act around him now, without thinking all these romantic thoughts. And of course, the more awkward I will get, the more likely he will be to notice. Anyways, I'm really, really done overanalyzing this all tonight, so good night Diary._

_Denise_

* * *

**A/n:** So Denise's platonic feelings for Oliver seem to be not-so-platonic after all, and Audrey has a jealous side. Is Oliver ever going to notice or is he too wrapped up in Quidditch? Thanks for reading and reviews are like oxygen!


	16. How Modern Of Me

**A/n:** Thanks for reading this far! I'd love to hear any thoughts you might have about this here story, so be sure to take a stop at the review button and give it a little clicky so you tell me those thoughts. :) As an irrelevant aside, the title of this chapter is a quote from Claire Littleton. Chocolate and cookies if you know who I'm talking about.

* * *

**Chapter 16 - How Modern of Me  
**

The next few weeks felt like a blur to Oliver. He worked hard at Quidditch practices, both alone and with his team, and kept up more or less with his homework. He actually began to improve in Potions, and Snape had plenty snide remarks about that little fact, especially since Oliver and Audrey were still paired together.

"Amazing what happens when you keep your tongue and temper in check, hmm?" Snape glared at the pair of them and swept on.

Oliver's free time he spent with his various friends, though he found himself spending more and more time with Denise. He found himself feeling very comfortable around her, even more so than usual, and they had a lot of great talks and laughs.

What was odd to him was the way his relationship, if it could be called that, was progressing with Audrey. During Potions class, they'd moved up from curt and civil "pass the ingredients" to small talk, a vast improvement in his approximation. Then one night, he went to the Library to grab a book for homework and found her alone and studying. He ended up talking to her for quite some time and regretted having to tear himself away. He found her there again the next night when he was returning the book and spent more than an hour talking and quite didn't know how it happened or why he had left that particular meeting with his heart beating faster than usual.

The last Hogsmeade weekend before Christmas holidays was on a Saturday and Fred and George teased Oliver relentlessly about setting him up with Lauren again. They only did it because it annoyed him and caused him to passionately protest, but knowing them, he wouldn't put it past them to set something up without his knowledge anyway.

His mood towards Quidditch, which had been damp and sour since the terrible match against Hufflepuff, lightened considerably when Hufflepuff lost their match against Ravenclaw at the end of November. Oliver continued his daily practices and went a little extra long on Saturdays. One particular week night when Oliver was out practicing on the pitch with a few other players from various teams, he noticed Audrey had come to watch and was bundled up in the stands.

At the end of his practice, he came in for a landing and Audrey met him near the locker room doors, her exposed nose and cheeks bright red from the cold. She lowered her scarf and smiled warmly at him.

"You looked like you were doing good up there," she said.

"Thanks," he returned her smile. "I always find something else I need to work on when I get up there." He gestured with his broom.

She rolled her eyes. "You're one of the best…" She stopped herself, seeming to realize she was speaking out loud and her cheeks grew redder though it wasn't from the cold this time.

At that moment, Oliver was struck by how pretty she looked. She was wearing minimal make-up, where usually in class she was quite heavily done-up. With her cheeks and nose rosy, it made her dark eyes sparkle and her hair, usually quite straight, had a slight wave in it, curling in a relaxed manner against her shoulder.

She cleared her throat and he realized he'd been staring.

"So, how's it going?" he forced out awkwardly, trying to skip the strange moment.

"Alright. I'm, uh, looking forward to Hogsmeade on Saturday."

"Me too."

She shuffled her feet slightly and he moved his broom to his other hand, hating the way tiny snowflakes were falling and sticking in her hair and eye lashes, because it was making his heart doing that beating-faster-_thing_ again and he didn't understand why. There was no way he could be attracted to Audrey, especially after all he'd gone through with her at the start of term. (Or was there?)

"Are you… going alone?" he asked.

"I… am currently," she said hopefully. "I was hoping to… ask…" She opened her mouth and seemed to stall for a moment. Then her words came out in a mumbled rush as she dropped her gaze to her shows. "I was going to ask you what your favourite color is, actually."

"Oh, er, blue mostly, or red." He shrugged. He wondered then if she wanted him to ask her to Hogsmeade but dismissed the notion. He wasn't even sure if they really friends at this point, so surely she wasn't expecting that?

"Well, you should go get changed, it's cold out here," she waved and headed away.

He watched her go and had the urge to ask her to Hogsmeade anyways. "I'm going alone too," he said after her. She turned back to face him. This time he was the one with the stalled mouth, and just as lamely as Audrey had done, he hastily burst out, "And you didn't tell me your favourite color."

Her shoulders slumped a touch. "I like red too."

"Good," he said, wishing he could sound a touch more intelligent. "Anyway, better, er, change I guess."

"Right, see you later Oliver."

He struggled with the notion of calling after her a second time but ultimately decided it was silly. He wasn't attracted to her; he wasn't even really friends with her. He shouldn't be assuming that she was going to ask him if he wanted to go with her or assuming that she even wanted him to ask in the first place. Because in all likelihood, she was just trying to be polite and make small talk and she didn't even really care if he was going alone or not.

He shrugged into fresh clothes inside the change room and tried to pretend that the idea of Audrey not caring about him was not suddenly bothering him.

* * *

Audrey silently cursed herself out all the way back to her dorm room. She'd sat through the entire practice with the very specific intent of asking Oliver to Hogsmeade. It was awfully modern of her, she knew, and she also knew there was a very good chance he would say no, because really, why would he say yes after all she'd put him through? Just because they'd had a handful of good conversations the past couple months didn't make them best friends or anything.

She was being stupid. She shouldn't even be entertaining thoughts of Oliver and yet here she was trying to go to Hogsmeade on a date with him. What if Danielle found out? Or, Merlin forbid, her parents? She could only imagine the raging Howler she'd get if they learned she was in love with a Gryffindor prize like Oliver.

And yet, as she threw herself down on her bed, she knew that right now the threat of Danielle or her parents wasn't enough anymore. She cared for Oliver, very much, and fighting it and ignoring it hadn't done her any good at all. Her only option was try for him and get her heart broken and then maybe she would finally be able to move past the whole mess.

With that thought in mind, she decided that the next time she saw Oliver, she would ask him to go with her.

* * *

When Oliver rounded the corner for the last corridor leading to Gryffindor Tower, he was surprised to see Denise coming his way.

"Hey," he greeted with a wide smile. "What are you doing all the way up here?"

"Oh, I was actually just asking Katie a few questions about our Charms essay," she replied.

Oliver smacked his forehead with his palm and groaned. "I _completely_ forgot about that!"

"Want some help?"

"Please."

The pair worked in the Library until late but Oliver managed to get his essay done. As he was walking her to the Ravenclaw dorms, she was talking animatedly about Charms in general. It was perhaps an odd moment to think about it, but his earlier awkward conversation with Audrey came back to him and he couldn't help but compare how easy he found Denise to get along with.

He didn't mean to cut her off but did as he blurted, "Denise, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?"

She froze and then looked confused. "I always go with you and Katie."

"No, I mean," he cleared his throat uneasily, already feeling foolish. Maybe this wasn't a good idea after all. "Just the two of us. Like a date."

She stared and he winced.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have – "

"No, it's fine. Oliver, I'd love to," she grinned, her cheeks becoming quite pink. Her gray-green eyes lit up.

"Alright, good, well, meet you at the gates, then, on Saturday."

"See you then." She beamed at him and he turned to head back to Gryffindor Tower feeling light.

* * *

On Wednesday, Oliver was running late for Charms when Audrey met up with him in the hall.

"Hey, can I talk to you a moment?" she asked.

"I'm actually running late for class right now, but I'll catch up with you later, alright?"

She shook her head. "Actually, I need to talk to you now."

He quirked his eyebrow at her and her apparent discomfort and wondered if this had anything to do with why she'd been awkward in Potions earlier in the week. She had seemed unnaturally unsure of herself and her conversation with him had been stilted at best.

"What is it?"

"Okay, I'm just going to ask you outright before my nerves fail me again, but if you want, or if it's not too strange, and you don't have to, but do you – would you like – would you mind going to – hanging out in Hogsmeade with me?" Her olive complexion reddened the more she spoke and Oliver meanwhile felt quite stunned.

"Sorry?"

She became, if possible, even redder. "Never mind." She tried to hasten away, hating the embarrassment burning plainly on her face but he caught her arm.

"Wait, Audrey,"

She looked first at his hand and then at him and he swiftly let her go, more unnerved now by the way his hand was tingling than her sudden question. His mind raced as fast as his heart in that moment. Though he was truly excited to be going on his first date with Denise, he couldn't stop the sting of disappointment that he hadn't asked Audrey instead the other day at the pitch.

"I'm glad you asked," he said. "But I have to say no."

She was visibly more disappointed and embarrassed then before. "Of course."

"I'm already going with someone else."

"Of course," she repeated, averting her gaze from his.

"Look, I really _am_ sorry," he said earnestly.

When she raised her eyes to meet his again, the fierce blush on her face receded a bit and she stopped clutching her books so tightly.

"May I take you to the next Hogsmeade weekend, though?" he asked tentatively.

She smiled, a bit shy but genuine. "Alright."

They regarded each other awkwardly for another moment or two before Oliver remembered he was late for class and hastily said goodbye before taking off down the corridor. Audrey's face broke into a wide grin and as she hurried away to Transfiguration, she missed two things: Oliver glancing back over his shoulder at her retreating figure and Nicole, off to the side of the hall, shaking her head with an irritated sigh.

* * *

As promised on Saturday, Oliver met Denise at the gates. The pair headed into Hogsmeade together and for the first time in a long time, they were uneasy in each other's presence. Oliver wondered if it was because they had specifically labelled this a "date" instead of "hanging out". Instead of their usual banter and chatting that occurred when they were with Katie or just the two of them, they traded uncomfortable small talk all the way to their table in the Three Broomsticks.

As they sipped their Butterbeer and had trouble meeting the other's eyes, Oliver was beginning to think this was a big mistake. They were friends and he should have left that alone, not complicated it by forcing in a romantic element. Never mind that her hair was pinned up in a messy sort of way with wavy pieces dusting her cheeks in the most flattering way, because clearly she wasn't feeling the potential of romance between them as he had the other night.

"You look really nice," he blurted and then gulped more of his drink.

She blushed and mumbled out a thank-you before following his lead and hastily swallowing down more liquid from her own mug.

At about that moment, Lee came walking by with Alicia on his arm. Denise smiled and waved at them.

Oliver asked, "Hey Lee! You already over what's-her-name from Ravenclaw?"

Lee laughed. "Not my type."

"That's not what I heard," interjected Denise.

Lee pretended to be offended while the others laughed. "I've just seen the light is all, right Alicia?"

She giggled and punched his arm playfully. "Let's keep it that way."

"We better leave you two be," Lee gestured between Oliver and Denise. "Katie informed me you were on _date_ – I'd say it's about time! You two've been friends years." He winked and headed away to another table with Alicia.

Oliver couldn't help but be a touch surprised by Lee's comment. It was true, he had been friends with Denise for a few years now, but not really terribly close. She'd always been close to Katie, and while Oliver was of course quite good friends with Katie, he didn't really spend all that much time with Denise. It was really only this past year that he'd become a better friend to her. He suspected there was still a lot about her he didn't know.

He turned to Denise. "Did Katie tell you what apparently happened in Hogsmeade last time, after I met up with you guys?"

"Only the highlights," she answered. "They got _thrown out_ of Madame Puddifoot's?"

Oliver recounted the story Fred and George had told him, in exaggerated detail, and by the end of the story Denise was wiping tears from her eyes she was laughing so hard. From that moment on, things went a whole lot smoother. They were back to their old selves, laughing and talking about everything and nothing. As they went from store to store after a few more Butterbeers, he couldn't help but notice that when he was around Denise like this, he felt no pressure to be the Captain of the team, or a good student, someone who was admired only for his looks and so on. It was a difficult feeling to articulate, but he felt somehow freer, more himself. He immediately decided that if more dates were to come, he was going to enjoy them very much.

* * *

**A/n:** To and fro, stop and go, that's what makes the world go 'round - and reviews!


	17. Electric Storm

"_Love is …strangely easy to mistake for loathing."_

_-Yvaine, Stardust_

* * *

**Chapter 17 - Electric Storm  
**

Audrey was exiting Zonko's Joke Shop with her friends, laughing about a boy in the store who had knocked over the Exploding Snap display, filling the store with smoke and chaos as all the packages went off. She happened to glance up the street and saw Oliver and that blonde from before standing outside of Quality Quidditch Supplies. Smiling and laughing, they were eating ice cream though there was a layer of snow on the ground and it was cold outside. The girl hit his elbow, causing ice cream to go on his face and then she playfully wiped it off.

Audrey watched and hated the way her chest was so tight she thought she might not be able to breathe again. She felt that same hot jealousy from before creep through her and she couldn't dispel it. She had to force herself to turn away and re-join her friends. If they noticed that was laughing a little too hard at the jokes and stories as they headed back to Hogwarts, they didn't mention it.

Once she had dumped her things in her dorm, she casually told her friends she was going for a walk.

The castle had a lot of towers and private nooks for someone to be alone. In her fourth year, Audrey had discovered a passage to one of the towers adjacent to the Astronomy Tower. It was very similar, if not as tall or spacious. It had large windows with a wonderful view of the Lake and of all the times Audrey had been there, she had met no one else there. This time was no different and for that she was thankful.

It had become her refuge, this room in this tower. It was bare of any furniture and smelled of dust, but that was alright. She used it as a place to collect her thoughts and to pour out her emotion when she couldn't bottle it any longer. She may have become good at hiding her true feelings and stuffing them down deep, but sooner or later they bubbled up and she had to let it out. Here now, she curled up on the floor and hit it with her fist, feeling very much like a silly little child having a tantrum – a realization which only made her feel worse.

The same old set of words she'd been repeating to herself ran through her mind: _He's not yours, you don't want him, you can't have him. Mother, Father, Kerrick, Danielle. Slytherin, Slytherin._

Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and all she could think about was that it wasn't fair. That blonde was free to date whoever she wanted, why did it have to be Oliver? Why was Audrey _so_ deeply bound by her desperate need to be praised by her parents, to get their approval? So deep in her want to be the perfect Slytherin daughter that she wouldn't just go for it, for _him_ and be happy for the first time in her life?

_He wouldn't want me anyway,_ she thought angrily. _Not after all I've done._ _Not after how I act when everyone is watching._

And he'd told her straight out that he was going to Hogsmeade with someone else. Why did it still hurt and surprise her to see him with that someone else?

She stood and went to the window and watched a flock of birds flying out over the lake. She wished more than anything she could switch places with any one of them.

* * *

When Oliver bid Denise goodbye later that afternoon, he planted a quick, impulsive kiss on her cheek. He was really pleased with the way their date had gone and they agreed to go on more. He soon was on his way, walking idly wherever his feet took him, happily reliving his day with Denise. Rounding a corner, he ended up colliding with Audrey – something which seemed to be becoming a habit with them.

"Oh, sorry Audrey," he apologized at once.

"Oliver," she looked startled to see him and he immediately felt concerned by the way her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks tear-stained.

"Are you alright?"

She was visibly trembling. "I hardly know."

Oliver ran his hand through his hair uncomfortably. "Do you, er, want to talk about it?"

She shook her head vigorously but her voice blurted traitorously, "I can't do this, I can't see you with her, of all people in the castle, why her – "

"Hold on, slow down, what do you mean?"

She sucked in her breath, as though just realizing what she'd just said. Then she decided to throw caution to the wind and continued, "I mean in Hogsmeade, when you two were so bloody _happy. _I can't stand there and _watch_!" Her voice increased in volume and the handful of people who were casually walking in the halls turned to stare.

Oliver noticed and swallowed. To Audrey, he said quietly, "Look, keep your voice down, will you?"

"I don't care if the whole castle hears!" she shouted.

"I _do_," Oliver hissed and grabbed her arm, pulling her into a nearby classroom, empty since it was Saturday, and shut the door behind them. "Now calm down and please explain what you're talking about – are you saying you're… jealous of Denise and I?"

"Spot on," she snapped.

"Hey, don't get short with me, you're the one who was yelling in the corridor a moment ago." He paused. "Why?"

"Why am I jealous or why was I yelling?" she crossed her arms over her chest. "I should think it's clear either way."

He shook his head. "You have to make _everything_ difficult, don't you? For one thing, it was one date and for another, I already promised to go with you on the next Hogsmeade weekend, so I don't know what you're getting so shirty about." He hadn't decided if he was irritated or pleased that she was jealous, and the fact that he _couldn't_ seem to decide bothered him greatly.

"Just don't go out with her again, alright?" she said pleadingly and made a move for the door, appearing to be in better control of herself for the moment.

He swiftly blocked her. "Hold on just a second. You can't tell me who I can and can't hang out with, especially since…" He trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence out loud: _we're not even friends._

"Especially since what?"

"Especially since it doesn't even matter," he finished firmly.

"It _does_ matter," she countered hotly. "My feelings _do_ matter."

"I never said they didn't – "

"And I can't stand having them and always having to do _nothing_ about it - and I hate seeing her wiping ice cream off your sodding face."

He put his hands up defensively as she came closer, her voice loud and passionate, her eyes intense and blazing. "Audrey, relax, it was – "

"She's just so _perfect_, isn't she, with all her blonde hair and smiles?"

"It was _one date!_" He yelled right back at her, quite tired of her outburst. This time he didn't stop his tongue from running off without his brain. "You and I - we aren't even friends! Just because we sit together in Potions – which we were forced to do, by the way - "

"Forced, yes! Because it's such a _hardship_ for you to spend your class time with _me_!"

" – and aren't hexing each other doesn't mean you can tell me who to be with. You have no right whatsoever – "

"I should hex you right now!"

Then they started talking over each other and the original purpose behind them coming into the room in the first place was quite lost in the argument. They were in each other's face, airing every grievance they'd ever had with one another. His heart was pounding with emotion and he couldn't believe his lovely day was being swiftly wrecked by Audrey.

Then he was mid-sentence and she was staring at him, and in one hard, swift motion, she put her hand behind Oliver's neck and dipped his head down, kissing him full on the lips.

* * *

For an instant, he was too shocked by the action to react. In the next instant, and he could never articulate what exactly happened, but something took over. His hands were on her face, hers were pulling at his collar, then his hands were on her back, pressing her closer to him.

He kissed her back deeply as electric bolts rocketed up and down his spine. There was a lot of noise yet no noise at all. There was nothing else except Audrey and her lips against his, and it felt like they were the only two people in the universe.

Finally sense or shock caught up with them and they pulled apart abruptly, leaving a large space between them. Oliver had no idea how many seconds or minutes had passed as they stood there panting, very unsure of what to do next. His body was still tingling all over in the most alien way and his heart was racing in his chest.

"What…" He couldn't find the words he wanted and simply stared at her.

She was red in the face and looked like she was seeing him in a whole new light. "Sorry," she said, though she didn't sound at all sincere.

He gulped air and met her eyes. "Don't be."

An uncomfortable moment or two passed where neither knew what to do next. Oliver would be lying if his thoughts weren't centered on capturing that feeling again, but he felt overwhelming confused. Had they not just been shouting angrily at each other? How did they end up lip-locked? He wasn't even attracted to her… was he?

_You don't snog people you're not attracted to, you big git_, he thought.

A loud bang startled them both and they exited the classroom to investigate. It turned out Fred and George had set off some Dungbombs in end-of-term high spirits. Students were alternately laughing or running away from the green clouds of smoke billowing down the hall and Oliver and Audrey did the same. At one point he looked back and she was no longer with him and at a loss for what to do next, he hurried on to Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

Oliver spent the rest of the evening trying to get his mind off of Audrey, the kiss and his confusion towards her. He tried a number of activities but nothing seemed to help. He couldn't stop replaying the moment in his mind or reimagining the feeling he'd had while kissing her.

Finally it was time to turn in, which Oliver gladly did, though he continued to find it impossible to turn his brain off. He tried focusing on the silence and the darkness of the dorm, but then Audrey's dark eyes swam into his mind, followed by the curve of her lips and the sensation of them against his. He rolled over and attempted to imagine a pure white room somewhere, full of white furniture, and he tasked himself with imagining the mundane details of the white room. But then Audrey would appear in her dark robes trimmed with green, dark hair cascading down and providing a wonderful contrast to all the white. He tried counting objects but then he started counting the various smiles he'd seen Audrey use and realized it was simply no use.

Come morning after a night of tossing, turning and frustrated emotion, he finally clambered out of bed. He felt cheated of solid sleep, especially on a Sunday when he enjoyed sleeping in. Grouchy and tired, he got dressed hastily and left the dorm.

* * *

As soon as his feet parted company with the ground, he finally felt relaxed. He breathed the chilly morning air in, deep and full. Oliver circled the Quidditch pitch a few times, increasing in speed until the air was whipping through his hair and stinging his face.

He charmed the Quaffle and Bludgers to play extra difficult for him and created an exhausting practice that took every bit of his focus and concentration. Every other thought was pushed away and even though he was tired, his body reacted well to his demands. The longer he played, the better he felt in general.

Almost a full three hours later, Oliver realized he'd nearly missed breakfast and thought it was time to stop. He was dripping with sweat but grinning as he touched down and put the balls away. That had been exactly what he'd needed. After a quick shower, he headed back to the castle for a quick bite to eat.

His thoughts inevitably circled back to Audrey as he walked, but now he didn't feel like a confused blender of emotions that were impossible to sort through. He realized what he needed was someone to talk to about her, though he wasn't sure who. He ran through his friends in his head, imagining their various reactions when he tried to explain the situation to any one of them. He needed someone who would offer him honest, unbiased advice and that certainly ruled out Lee and the twins who he would probably consider his best friends. There was also no way he'd be talking to another girl, even Katie, about something like this as he simply wasn't comfortable discussing kissing a girl with another girl.

Then he thought of the perfect person: Cedric Diggory. Oliver and Cedric weren't terribly close anymore, but they had been in their earlier years at Hogwarts and still maintained a good friendship. It was a friendship perhaps colored by Quidditch rivalry, a bit more so since Cedric was now Captain of Hufflepuff, but a friendship nonetheless. Who better to get an honest opinion from than a Hufflepuff?

* * *

**A/n:** Thanks for reading! Reviews are grand. :D Also, not to pull a SMeyer moment here, but one scene in this chapter may have been inspired by a dream I had. Good news is, I'm not basing a series off of it.


	18. Christmas Crackers

**A/n:** If anyone has read my ancient _If Diggory Hadn't Died_, and remembers it well for some reason, you might recognize a tiny side character in this chapter. ;)

* * *

**Chapter 18 - Christmas Crackers  
**

As soon as he'd finished eating his breakfast, Oliver approached Cedric who was just on his way out of the Hall with his friend Ewan.

"Hey mate, alright?"

"Alright," answered Oliver. "Yourself?"

Cedric shrugged. "Could be worse, right?"

Oliver agreed with a laugh then said, "Look, if you've got a minute, can I talk to you?"

"Sure." He turned to Ewan. "Catch up with you later, mate."

Ewan waved and headed away.

"Do you know of a place we can go where we won't be overheard?"

Cedric was thoughtful for a moment before replying, "How about the Hufflepuff locker room at the pitch? I don't think anyone is scheduled to use the pitch until Ravenclaws at eleven anyway."

"That will do perfectly," said Oliver with a nod.

The two Captains made their way across the grounds to the pitch and talked idly about nothing important until they'd seated themselves on the benches in Hufflepuff's yellow accented locker room.

"So, what's going with you, Oliver?" asked Cedric. "You look like you haven't slept at all and I'm guessing this is important since you wanted it to be private, so out with it."

Oliver sighed but didn't waste time beating around the bush. He launched into his story, starting at the beginning of term when he'd first bumped into Audrey, and all the encounters he'd subsequently had with her. He explained about his friendship and date with Denise and the incident with Audrey the day before that had ended in the kiss. When he finally had finished, he found he felt much better having told someone the whole story.

Cedric listened quietly the whole time and then sat with his eyebrows drawn together, chewing on his lip thoughtfully. Oliver waited a moment or two, then his friend asked, "How much do you like Denise?"

Oliver shrugged and ran his hand through his hair. "Well, I feel comfortable around her. I've known her for a while, but we're only now _really _getting to know each other. I feel like myself around her - like there's no expectations or something."

"That's how you feel _around_ her, Oliver, but how do you feel _about_ her?"

He took a moment to think before he answered, "I like her. I respect her. She's pretty and fun and we really get along. She's nice, and we don't need Katie as a buffer between us anymore when we hang out. It's very comfortable. I feel… _warmer_ around her, if that makes any sense."

Cedric nodded. "And how do you feel about Audrey?"

Oliver made a frustrated noise and rose to his feet, throwing his hands in the air and letting them fall down with a slap at his sides. "Audrey is a _bloody mess_. She's up, she's down, she hates me, she likes me - or seems to, at least – I can't decide from one minute to the next if she's going to smile at me or hex me. She's like a few different people rolled into one and I can't figure her out. She's _impossible_!"

He ranted and paced and Cedric sat back, amusedly observing his friend.

"She's infuriating, and we've had some civil conversations, sure, and we're not in danger of blowing up Snape's dungeons anymore, I don't think, but… I can't get her out of my head. I keep telling myself I'm not attracted to her, but every time I see her, my heart speeds up, and I can't stop thinking about her. Even if she's not the focus of my thoughts, she's there, hovering, and it's only gotten worse since yesterday – since she kissed me.

"And _Merlin_, that _kiss_, Ced! I've _never_ felt that before, with _anyone_. I don't know what to think – I feel like I would do anything to kiss her like that again, to see her smile in this one way that she only uses when we're alone, and I just feel so sodding _insane_! I don't even _know_ what I'm talking about, or how I can be so _into_ her, when I'm… _not_."

Cedric couldn't help but laugh. "Can you even hear yourself right now? You just gave me a sweet, lukewarm description of the girl you just had a date with, and a much more passionate, lengthy one of the one you're haven't."

Oliver stared, not realizing he had until his friend had brought it up. "I _am_ attracted to Audrey," he said dumbly.

"And I think you've just solved your own problem."

He exhaled and plunked himself back down on the bench beside the curly-haired Hufflepuff. "But my head is arguing, Ced. Denise… I should feel _more_ for Denise, because she's really great, and Audrey… is a _train wreck_. My head says I need to stay away from Audrey – she's too volatile, she's just a bloody mess – that I need to work at having a proper relationship – more than one date, at least - with Denise, someone I feel entirely comfortable with."

"That may be true," Cedric leaned forward and regarded his friend intently. "But what is your _heart_ saying?"

* * *

Christmas decorations sprung up all over the castle and as the holidays got into full swing, Oliver was able to finish off most of his homework without the distraction of others. Most students, including his friends, went home for the holidays but Oliver opted to stay behind. Denise and Katie were spending Christmas at each other's houses and the twins had also gone home. He had not seen Audrey since their kiss a few days earlier and did not yet know if she'd chosen to stay behind as well.

As Christmas neared, more snow fell, covering the grounds in a beautiful white blanket. The castle was filled with delicious smells that made Oliver yearn excitedly for the upcoming feast.

* * *

On the night of the feast, when Oliver entered the Great Hall, he was surprised to see that all the House Tables were gone. In previous years when he had stayed behind there were never a lot of students but usually enough to still necessitate House Tables. In their place this year, however, was one large and long table where a few students and teachers were already seated.

"Come, come, Mr. Wood!" Flitwick gestured happily when he saw Oliver. "It'll be a cozy Christmas feast this year with so few of us."

Oliver smiled and took a seat across from Professor Sprout and beside a jittery looking first year. He offered her a reassuring smile but she averted her eyes and seemed to shrink in her seat.

It wasn't long before others came to the table. Two more first years, followed by Professors McGonagall and Snape, and (Oliver's heart leapt into his throat) Audrey. She had a rather sour look on her face until she caught sight of him and then she looked much happier though also quite nervous. She sat down on the other side of the nervous little girl beside Oliver.

Last to join the table was Professor Dumbledore, followed by Harry Potter and his two best friends. Oliver nodded a greeting to them.

Once they were all seated, the Headmaster cheerily scooped up a large shimmering green Christmas cracker near his plate and proceeded to share it with a very unenthusiastic Snape. A hideous hat with a stuffed vulture on it came out but Dumbledore happily wore it. Shortly after that, Professor Trelawney made a rather dramatic entrance and traded words with Professor McGonagall that had Oliver stifling laughter behind his hand. Thankfully, Professor Trelawney was more subdued the rest of the meal.

Oliver tried a little bit of everything, including the questionable gray stuff near the cranberries. It turned out to be quite tasty, though he never caught the name of it. The whole meal, however, he found himself feeling quite self-conscious because of Audrey's presence. Small things suddenly bothered him greatly, like how few vegetables he had on his plate compared to hers, or how messy his plate was compared to hers. He glanced at her constantly.

Professor Sprout, unbeknownst to Oliver, was a hopeless romantic and was not only observing the stiff, awkward way the Gryffindor was behaving, but had noted the same unease radiating from Audrey who Sprout knew to be a much more confident and unflustered girl. She of course could only speculate on what was going on between the pair of them but simply couldn't help herself when she noticed the two of them sneaking glances when the other wasn't looking.

"Dumbledore, you're the only one with a fun hat!" she exclaimed. "Let's all grab a Christmas cracker and get one too." She immediately seized several crackers off the table and began handing them out. "Here you are, Ron and Hermione… Harry, you share with Derek there… Minerva, Sybill… Lucy, dear, with me… Oliver, you and Audrey…" And so on around the table until Sprout had paired everyone. Lucy and Oliver traded places so the little girl was directly across from her partner and he was beside his.

All at once there was a number of loud bangs and explosions of colourful smoke and glitter, as everyone's crackers came apart. Different hats, ribbons and streamers dropped and flew everywhere and Sprout laughed happily.

Out of Oliver and Audrey's cracker came two crimson paper crowns and more long white and green curls of thick ribbon than should have conceivably fit inside the little cardboard cracker. They laughed and smiled at each other as they cleared the ribbon onto the floor.

Sprout donned one of the oversized Statue of Liberty-like crowns that had come out of her and Lucy's cracker. Following her lead, everyone at the table except Snape and Trelawney good-naturedly put on their own crazy headwear. McGonagall and Lucy were last, as McGonagall didn't think she was feeling quite festive enough for a jingling green elf hat, and Lucy was concerned she'd be swallowed by the huge crown that matched Sprout's. After a charm for Lucy's crown and some coaxing from Dumbledore for Minerva, it was just Snape glowering and Trelawney babbling ("Hats cloud the Inner Eye, you see, and I simply _mustn't_ let it be clouded," was her excuse) who were left hatless as talking and eating resumed.

Oliver gestured to Audrey's crooked crown. "Looks nice," he joked.

"So does yours." She smiled.

He cast about for something else to say and his eyes landed on the nearest bowl. "Pudding?" he held it up.

"Er, sure!"

He dished out a few small spoonfuls each and as he set the bowl aside, found himself stumped for words again. He was saved for the moment as Dumbledore began telling a joke and the other conversations broke off to listen. After the punch line had been delivered and the laughter shared, something in the atmosphere shifted. The joke had somehow managed to loosen everyone up, even if it was just a tiny bit. The longer the feast went, the more comfortable things felt.

Oliver regained his ability to make small talk with Audrey, which soon turned into solid conversation. At the end of the feast, they exited the Hall laughing and talking passionately, much to the amusement and satisfaction of an observant Professor Sprout.

When the pair reached the point where they had to break off and head to their respective dorms, however, the previous "magic" seemed to dissipate in a hurry and the awkwardness returned.

"I, er… tonight was fun," said Oliver.

"It was," Audrey agreed with a nod.

"Well, see you then," Oliver shrugged and took a few steps backwards.

"Right, see you."

They both turned and walked away but hadn't gotten far when Audrey called his name. He whipped around.

"Yes?"

She hesitated, then smiled the type of smile that Oliver had recently learned made his knees feel soft. "Merry Christmas."

He grinned back. "Merry Christmas."

* * *

The next morning was Christmas morning and Oliver woke smiling just because of that fact. His smile only widened when he rose to find a pile of wonderful looking packages at the foot his bed. He took the time to conjure himself a burning hot cup of cider (a Christmas tradition he and his father enjoyed, and which Oliver had only mastered with a wand the year before) before digging into his parcels.

The first was from his mother and contained a delicious assortment of Wood family Christmas treats. He immediately sampled a few of his favorites before setting the package aside and moving on to the next. It was from his father and it was an expensive shirt made of jersey like material, made to be worn under Quidditch robes. It was charmed to fit any body type and protect against extreme weather and Oliver only wished he'd had it during the horribly rainy match against Hufflepuff back in October.

Oliver then opened several more equally wonderful parcels from various family members, including ancient Great Aunt Maude, whose gift consisted of pictures of her fat, extremely lazy and snobbish toad and a basket of brand new socks, which he supposed he should be thankful for. Socks were practical, of course, but _no one_ liked getting them as Christmas gifts.

_Percy might_, Oliver mused.

Lee got him a gift certificate to Quality Quidditch Supplies, and Cedric gave him a new black notebook that could charmed with a password to keep his Quidditch plays in. Oliver was glad to have it as the current notebook he used was ratty, stained and missing pages, and he currently kept it under his mattress.

He opened his gift from the twins with caution from past experience, but there was nothing to be worried about this time, as it was just a nice pair of professional Quidditch gloves. He laughed when he opened his gift from Roger Davies, which was an unnaturally large bar of soap. It was a running joke between the pair of them that the "enemy" Captain's team "stunk", so they gave each other gifts based on this. Even if it was a joke gift, it generally turned out to be practical. Oliver, for example, had purchased Roger a bottle of color-changing body wash, adorned with a large red bow.

Katie gave Oliver a copy of _The Complete Quidditch History Book_ by Spenrath Sterneggle and Algarath Ludiboss (with a foreword from Kennilworthy Whisp). He also received a book from Denise, which was a "now-English" version of Hamlet. During their date, he had mentioned that he had always been interested in reading some of Shakespeare to see what the fuss was about but couldn't muscle past all the "thee"'s and "thou"'s. Clearly she'd remembered the conversation and he was warmed by her thoughtfulness.

After he'd put away the last of his gifts, he noticed one small package that had gotten bumped under his bed. He retrieved it and was quite surprised when he turned over the tag. It read,

_To Oliver, Happy Christmas! From, Audrey_

Oliver removed the lid of the little red box, filled with curiosity. Inside was a beautiful, shining and intricately detailed finger model of Firebolt, the newest broom. He exhaled his breath in awe, wondering why she had purchased him a gift at all, let alone something that looked so pricey. These thoughts were immediately followed by guilt that he hadn't purchased anything for her. He simply hadn't thought of it.

As he stood and began to pace, thinking there had to be some way to get her a gift still, he noticed a still wrapped parcel sitting atop his clothes. He cursed aloud and snatched it up. Not only had he not bothered to get Audrey a gift, he'd forgotten to mail Denise's.

_Sodding moron!_ He thought and paced fiercely trying to come up with a solution to his predicament. A few moments later, he snapped his fingers; he had it.

* * *

**A/n:** I always like to imbed little nods in my stories from time to time, and this one contained a couple very subtle ones. One to an original story I wrote a million years ago, so I don't expect anyone to catch that, and another to _Beauty and the Beast_ – think you can catch it? Thanks for reading!


	19. Beaten By Bandits

**A/n:** Though I have read and re-read every chapter and edited the best I can, I'm positive there will things that I missed, so if you spot them, point them out so I can fix 'em! Here we have Oliver fixing the mistake of not buying a Christmas present before Christmas morning. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 19 - Beaten By Bandits  
**

He had always known the fact that his mother was very good friends with Madame Rosmerta of the Three Broomsticks would come in handy someday. He prayed for luck as he threw on boots and a coat, then he scribbled a messy note to Rosmerta and dashed to the Owlery. Once there, he chose an _Express_ owl who seemed rather disgruntled at having to work, but shot off to Hogsmeade with Oliver's letter around his leg nonetheless.

Oliver waited tensely and it wasn't long before the owl came back with a reply. It read,

_You're lucky, kiddo, I was just coming by the pub to pick up some things I'd left yesterday. I can see if I can get something for you. Did you have anything particular in mind?_

_Rosmerta_

He smiled with relief as he hastily replied to her letter (_Thank you, thank you, I owe you, and no, nothing particular – something nice._) before sending the owl off again. He retrieved Denise's gift from his coat pocket and proceeded to send an Owl off with it. He then made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, expecting that Rosmerta would take some time helping him get a gift. It wasn't until he was back at Gryffindor, facing Sir Cadogan that he remembered he was still wearing his old blue plaid pajamas with holes in the knees under his large coat and boots.

"Fine sir! What in the _blazes_ has happened to you?" the knight shouted.

"Sorry?"

"Your _attire_, sirrah. Were you beaten by bandits and left for dead? Were you robbed of proper clothes and left in your undergarments?" Sir Cadogan demanded. Before Oliver was able to reply, the knight continued, "A-HAH! It was that dastardly Sirius Black, wasn't it? Well, he'll certainly be of no trouble while _I'm_ around, I promise you that! Point me in his direction!"

Oliver stared. "No, I'm fine, thanks anyways – "

Sir Cadogan didn't seem to hear Oliver as he continued, "And I shall secure the castle, inform the Headmaster – "

"It's _alright_, they're just pajamas, there's no Sirius Black. Tinselcider."

"Are you quite positive? Was it indeed bandits – gypsies perhaps? A rogue band of – "

"_No_, I just didn't get dressed before I left this morning. Tinselcider."

"It certainly _looks_ as though you have – "

"Tinselcider!" Oliver tried the password again, growing more and more irritated with the knight.

" – been a victim of a brutal – "

"They're just _pajamas!_ Tinselcider, open up!"

" – act of thievery of the most – "

"_Tinselcider!"_

"Alright, alright! No need to shout." The knight huffed. "I'm not deaf you know."

When the portrait hole was finally revealed, Oliver pushed through, shaking his head. He couldn't wait until the Fat Lady came back. Aside from changing the password constantly, the knight was unnecessarily aggravating.

He was back in the empty dorm room and lying on his bed playing with the lovely mini Firebolt when an owl tapped its beak on the window. He let it in at once and was delighted to find a small package as well as a note from Rosmerta attached to the owl.

The note read,

_Hey Ollie,_

_Today is your lucky day! I ran into Mrs. Hildegaard who had popped over to her general store as she'd forgotten some breakfast ingredients. After I told her about you, she offered to let me in her store and get something. She said I'd done so many favors for her in the past that it was time she paid me back – she wouldn't even let me pay for the gift I chose!_

_Anyways, so there wasn't a lot of choice, it being just a general store (but there is nothing else open, it being Christmas Day and all), but I think I picked something alright, so hopefully this girl of yours likes it. Next year Ollie, do try and finish all your Christmas shopping _before_ Christmas morning._

_See you soon, and Happy Christmas._

_Rosmerta_

Oliver wrinkled his nose at the use of the nickname "Ollie", though truly Rosmerta and his grandmother were the only two people who could call him that and get away with it.

He promptly sent a thank you note to Rosmerta and hastily wrapped Audrey's gift. By the time the owl was back, he was finished, and sent the owl to deliver the parcel. He hoped she liked it.

* * *

_Dear Diary,_

_Things here at the Bell's have been so much fun, I haven't written in days! The day before yesterday we went sledding with Lee and Alicia, and stayed outside for hours making snow forts and snowmen, having snowball fights, and more. Angelina, Fred and George joined us for a while too, though Fred and Angelina disappeared for a while and we still don't know where exactly they went. We ended the day on Katie's couch watching Muggle movies on Katie's dad's Tee-vee, and Fred and Katie made jokes about how their dads are both into Muggle stuff (I've always loved Katie's Tee-vee)._

_Today is Christmas Day and we've just finished opening presents. We'll be Flooing to my house later this week and spending New Year's Eve with my family before heading back to Hogwarts a few days before term starts –_

"Denise!"

Denise looked up from her diary. "Yes?" she called out the door.

"Package for you just came!" Katie hollered up the stairs.

Denise abandoned her diary and padded down the wooden stairs to the yellow and white kitchen of the Bell's home. Mr. Bell was seated at the table, sipping coffee and idly perusing yesterday's newspaper. His dark eyes scanned the page intently and when his lips, mostly hidden behind a graying moustache cracked a grin, Denise realized he was reading the comic section. Mrs. Bell, meanwhile, her golden brown hair messily shoved up in a bun of sorts, was bustling around the kitchen preparing breakfast. She often complained about her lacking of cooking skills, but Denise didn't believe that to be true as she always enjoyed Mrs. Bell's cooking.

"Living room, love," she gestured over her shoulder with a pancake spatula without looking.

The living room was still strewn with ripped and crumpled wrapping paper as Denise settled herself on the low, cushy old couch that used to match the color of the burgundy walls. It creaked in protest. Without looking up from the handheld game she'd received that morning, Katie passed Denise the package that had come for her.

"It's from your _boyfriend_," said Katie teasingly.

Denise rolled her eyes and checked the tag to find it was indeed from Oliver (he apologized for sending it late), then proceeded to pull off the wrapping paper. She was completely delighted to find a brand new copy of her favourite book nestled inside.

"How did he know?" she grinned, hugging it tight to her chest.

"What is it?" asked Katie.

"_Sense and Sensibility_ by Jane Austen," Denise breathed, caressing the book almost reverently. "I _love_ this book."

Katie wrinkled her nose. "Those books are so dry. You should try reading more witches, you know, less Muggles. Not quite so _dry_ and wordy."

"Katie, she may be Muggle, but it's an absolute _classic!_ It is _such_ a beautiful story, about a woman and – "

"Spare me," Katie put her hand up and laughed. "I've seen the movie."

The girls laughed and giggled and then proceeded to talk about the book and the movie for quite some time. Later in the afternoon, Denise curled up with her new book and devoured it. She'd read it hundreds of times, as evidenced by her severely worn out looking copy and once again couldn't wait to thank Oliver for his lovely gift.

As her thoughts centered on him, she began to feel the same bout of confusion that had been plaguing her since her outing in Hogsmeade with him. It had been a fun and wonderful first date, to be sure, but she couldn't help but feeling like they had just been hanging out together, as usual, only without Katie. It had hardly felt romantic to her. That wasn't exactly a bad thing, except that leading up to the date, and certainly weeks, even months before, she'd had growing thoughts of romance between her and Oliver. So why did she feel more like his best friend than girlfriend when they went on an actual date?

She hated to think her feelings were that fickle and had yet to voice these thoughts to anyone, even Katie. It simply made no sense to her. She decided, however, that she had felt more like his friend than girlfriend because nothing specifically romantic had happened between them. She was sure that when something did, her feelings would be stronger again. Or at least, she certainly hoped so.

* * *

Audrey was putting away the gifts she'd received that morning when a younger girl entered the dorm, looking haughty and irritated.

"This arrived for you," she said in a bored drawl, holding out a small package as if it were something unpleasant and added, "By _owl_."

"Thanks," Audrey took it and the girl left, glad her chore was over with. Audrey shook her head turned her attention to the parcel and the tag affixed to it.

_To Audrey,_

_Sorry it's late. Hope you like. Merry Christmas._

_Oliver_

Her stomach did several somersaults. She'd felt strange sending him a gift and certainly hadn't expected anything in return. She'd even debated not putting her name on the tag so it would have been anonymous but had decided she was being silly. It was just a Christmas gift and friends gave friends gifts all the time.

_Friends._ It still seemed foreign to her. But after how the feast had gone, surely she could say they were at least friends?

She tore apart the paper and opened the box it had concealed at once and her eyes widened in excitement.

"Merlin," she whispered and removed the bracelet from the box to get a better look.

It was a silver chain bracelet with small links and subtle rhinestones buried between the links here and there. The bracelet was delicate and petite looking, but once she'd put it on, it suited her and didn't look quite so fragile. It shimmered and gleamed, though not in a glittery way. She _loved_ it.

The smile on her face started small, tentative, as if someone might see it and scare it away, but then grew wider, pushing on her reddened cheeks until it was a wide, happy grin. Her heart swirled in her chest and she was surprised by just how happy she felt at such a small token. The smile faded the longer she stared at the bracelet on her wrist, however, as she realized with the kind of deep, certain finality she'd refused to feel for months that she'd really fallen for Oliver Wood.

Hard.

* * *

When Oliver arrived in the Great Hall for supper, the single table was still there. He took the same seat he'd occupied the previous night and when Audrey arrived moments later, she chose her same seat as well, murmuring a small "hello" to him as she did so.

Once the meal began and everyone chatted merrily about the gifts they received and gave, Oliver turned to Audrey.

"Thank you for the broom, it's really brilliant."

She swallowed her mouthful and smiled softly. "Thank you for the bracelet." She held up her arm to show she was wearing it.

Oliver's stomach felt odd seeing the bracelet no longer in the box he'd wrapped and when her smile widened, he recognized it as that special one she seemed to use only for him and he had trouble looking away. She flushed under his gaze and then he looked away, embarrassed.

Soon the meal was over, and they were exiting the Great Hall together. At the point where they needed to part ways and head to their respective dorms, Oliver found he didn't want to stop the flow of steady conversation they'd managed to keep going. On impulse he asked,

"Would you like to go to the Library or Study Hall or something?"

Audrey nodded at once.

The pair walked on to the Library, talking of everything and nothing as they went. When they reached the Library, they walked right past it and though both noticed, neither acknowledged the fact and they kept walking. They aimlessly wandered all throughout the castle, and Oliver made her laugh, and didn't know what it was about her; she seemed so _real_ that night.

Maybe it had something to do with it being Christmas, maybe it was because they were alone, maybe it was because of something else entirely – he couldn't put his finger on it. But her eyes were lit up and she spoke to him about mundane things in way that he hadn't heard her speak before. At the start of term, she'd seemed to hate him and take great pleasure in embarrassing him repeatedly. Then they'd grown to be polite but guarded. Aside from that kiss recently, he felt like he'd only seen a very specific side of Audrey and this was a whole new side.

And whether he was crazy or reading far too much into it or not, he couldn't help but feel like he was the only one privy to this animated, softer side of Audrey.

It wasn't until they ran into Professor Sprout, who was doing supervision rounds, that they realized exactly how long they'd been talking.

"Good heavens! What are you two doing out and about?" Sprout exclaimed when she spotted the pair sauntering casually down a hallway on the fifth floor.

Oliver broke off his passionate speech about the intricacies of the '78 Quidditch Cup and exchanged a confused glance with Audrey.

"We were walking," he answered unsurely.

"Dears, you know the special rules right now, with all the Black business!" Sprout placed her hands on her hips and glared at them disapprovingly, looking very much like a shorter, rounder version of Professor McGonagall. The torches lining the wall flickered, adding dancing shadows to her features. "All students are to be in their dorms no later than ten o'clock and it is _well_ past that."

Audrey's eyes widened in surprise and Oliver stared, stunned by the news that they had been talking for so long (and so easily).

"Mr. Wood, please carry on to Gryffindor Tower while I escort Miss Lewis to her dormitory."

"Yes, Professor," said Oliver.

He and Audrey smiled sheepishly at each other and mumbled out a quick goodbye.

"See you tomorrow," he said.

"You can count on it," she replied.

Later, when Audrey and Oliver were in their respective dorms, Sprout spent the rest of her supervision rounds, humming a tune that sounded suspiciously like Celestina Warbeck's _You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me_.

* * *

**A/n:** Thanks for reading, as per usual. :D It means a lot to me!


	20. Fireworks

**A/n:** New Year's Eve festivities at Hogwarts are never specifically mentioned in the book, I don't think, but I believe they still happened, perhaps like this... ;)

* * *

**Chapter 20 - Fireworks  
**

The rest of the Christmas holidays went far too fast for Oliver's liking. He spent a significant amount of it with Audrey and found himself becoming closer to her. They had yet to broach the subject of the kiss they'd shared or the fight before it, but Oliver wasn't about to start anything unpleasant between them when things were going so well and he suspected she felt the same way.

That wasn't to say they didn't run into any disagreements, as she was still Audrey and he was still Oliver, so they had more than a few arguments, though nothing reached the angry pitch of their previous fights. Neither was good at apologizing either, it seemed; the arguments usually would end in one of the other walking away, and the next day, they refrained from mentioning it, until much later when one or the other would manage a "sorry" of sorts and they'd swiftly move on with a change of subject.

Oliver also spent a lot of time on the pitch, wearing the jersey from his father which not only kept out the cold but kept him from feeling overheated when he played hard. He found that the gloves from Fred and George, while not harmful in anyway, glowed brightly when he wore them, displaying different colors seeming to depend on his mood.

New Year's Eve turned out to be a wonderfully special night. Audrey brought him to a little used tower he'd never been to and told him that it was her spot to be alone and think. She said she'd never brought anyone else there before and he felt touched by her trust and friendship.

They watched the New Year's Eve fireworks together from the tower, laughing at the funny shapes or the way the glittering red cat chased the shimmering yellow mouse until the cat tripped itself up and the mouse got away. The blue dragons and white unicorns flew and galloped right by the tower and the rainbow shower of sparks when it ended seemed to hang in the air for much longer than was natural. No matter how many times he witnessed a Wizarding fireworks show, Oliver could never get over the amazing things the magical fireworks did.

He was afraid to break the mood as he turned to regard her, leaning on the windowsill, her face inches from the glass that kept out the cold. He was thinking about the strange kiss and knew they had to talk about it sooner or later, especially since the holidays were nearly over. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen when term resumed – would it be back to routine? Back to carefully side-stepping each other? Back to strained civility in Potions? Or did the holidays change things? He certainly thought so, but she was the one who had such a strictly guarded persona about her when she was around her Slytherin friends.

"Audrey?" he started hesitantly.

"Hmm?" she turned her dark eyes to him.

"What are we doing?"

She cocked her head to the side. "I'd say we're in a tower on New Year's Eve watching fireworks. What did you think we were doing?" she teased.

"That's not what I mean," he said.

She sighed. She'd known exactly what he'd meant. "I don't know, Oliver." She shrugged. "Having fun. We can have fun, can't we?"

"But is this it? When school starts, is it… will it be back to business as usual?"

"Do you _want_ it be back to business?"

"No," he answered quickly, firmly. "No, I don't."

They were quiet for a few moments.

"I don't either," she finally said. She smiled at him softly.

He studied her intently and she moved her gaze to the scenery outside.

"Why'd you kiss me that day?" he asked, without really meaning to. Not quite so baldly, anyway.

She didn't seem surprised by his question, however, and answered simply, "Because I wanted to." She paused then questioned hesitantly, "Why'd you kiss me back?"

Oliver chuckled and rubbed his neck. "I… don't really know."

Another stretch of silence as they both watched the residue from the fireworks slowly fading away.

"Audrey, what was all that business at the start of term? The tripping and the general chaos you inflicted on me?"

She looked at her shoes in embarrassment. "Yes, well. That would be my rather ill-conceived attempt to force myself to get over you."

He raised his eyebrows slightly. "Get _over_ me? What do you mean by that?"

"Another time," she shook her head, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "I'll tell you about it another time, maybe, alright?"

He was very reluctant to let her off the hook, but said anyways, "Alright…"

"Look, I like you, Oliver," she said, moving closer to him. "Very much. I hope you know that."

"I do now," he returned her grin and felt his pulse quicken when she placed her hand on his arm.

The moonlight was playing across her features in an interesting way and her eyes seemed to glitter. All at once, images of all of his interactions with Audrey cascaded through his mind like a film reel, starting with the moment in the Great Hall when he'd crossed her path and ending with her standing there looking up at him on New Year's Eve.

"You are an incredible contradiction," he whispered and leaned forward.

When their lips connected, Oliver was met with the same shocking sensations he'd felt the first time he and Audrey had kissed. The difference this time was that the kiss was not an unexpected jolt of chaotic emotion, but rather a calculated and very welcome action. Her hands snaked up his arm and through and his hair and he pressed her close, tingling from her touch.

When they finally, reluctantly, parted, he rested his forehead on hers for a moment and couldn't stop the rather wide grin that came across his features, matching hers. And as badly as he did not want the night to end, he knew that curfew had only been extended just enough for the fireworks and he didn't relish being caught out of his dorm again, especially by a less than understanding professor.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he said.

"You can count on it."

* * *

Two days before term began, Fred and George returned to Hogwarts. Oliver was glad to see them, not only to thank them for the unusual Christmas gift, but to talk to them about the variety of Quidditch plays and moves he'd come up with over the holidays. It was amazing how clear headed he'd felt on the days when Audrey came to watch him practice, and he'd also been pleasantly surprised by the advice she occasionally offered up, as she was often right and noticed things he hadn't.

He talked first with the twins about how their holidays had gone. They had a variety of stories to tell and George exaggerated greatly about the size of the snow fort he and Fred had made, while Fred informed Oliver that George had been secretly sending letters to someone and wouldn't even confess _who_ to his own twin. After some obligatory teasing and attempts at prying, which George swiftly rebuffed and promised he'd tell them when the time was right, it was Oliver's turn to tell them about his holidays.

He started in on the Quidditch talk, but grew hesitant when he it came to mentioning Audrey.

"What is it?" prodded Fred.

"Well, I'm not sure you will approve, exactly, of how I came up with the modification to the Prowse Pass-off," answered Oliver.

"Approve?" George snorted. "I'd wager there is very little in this world we _don't_ approve of. Did you steal the play?"

"No!"

"Because if you did, I want to know at once how, and from whom."

"No, of course not. I didn't steal it."

"What then?" prompted Fred.

Oliver sighed. "Audrey helped me."

George blinked and Fred cocked his head, racking his brain. "Audrey… wait, isn't that the Slytherin girl who was making your life miserable for a while back there?"

Oliver shifted uneasily. "Er, that's the one."

"You're taking Quidditch advice from… a Slytherin? Your _enemy_?"

"She's not my enemy," Oliver said hastily. "She… look, we've worked out our problems, and she has a head on shoulders – most of the time – and she had some good points, so – "

"I'm still stuck on the fact that you're fraternizing with this girl," said George.

Oliver swallowed. _Merlin, you have no idea._ "Well, it's a bit more than fraternizing, actually. We're, well, friends." _Who kiss._

"You're _friends_ with the girl who was tormenting you," said Fred incredulously. "The _Slytherin_ girl who was tormenting you – "

"The Slytherin girl who _hangs out with Flint_ all the time," added George in an equally shocked tone.

Oliver hardly felt like telling his friends more details, as he'd been hoping for a touch more support from them, but he did so anyways.

"And we kissed." He said. "Twice."

The twins at once seemed torn between high-fiving him and slapping him upside the head. Finally it was Fred who managed,

"Are you _mad_?"

* * *

When Audrey arrived back in her dormitory, she was glad to see that her friends Nicole and Danielle had returned from holidays. They greeted her happily, and chatted energetically about all the things they'd done. Nicole's family had enjoyed their traditional Christmas, full of family and banquets at her parent's friend's homes, something Nicole loved attending as it gave her the opportunity to dress up.

Danielle's family, meanwhile, had opted to spend Christmas in America. Danielle was bursting with stories of the things they did and saw and Audrey listened with a sort of detached interest. She'd been to America a few times with her parents to visit her brother, but America reminded her of Kerrick, which in turn reminded her that she was not the "favourite" child and that her whole life was built around seeking approval from her parents as a result. America, therefore, left a bitter taste in her mouth.

As thoughts of her parents circled through her brain, she felt her spirits, previously so high from her holiday fun with Oliver, sink low fast. She'd spent years integrating herself into the right circles in the Slytherin house, and here, after just a few weeks, she was acting like it didn't matter. How would her parents react to the news that she was dating a Gryffindor? The _Captain_ of the Gryffindor team, no less?

At once she felt as though she could feel her father's disapproving gaze and could hear her mother's cold voice saying that it was such a shame that they'd had a daughter. She felt them constantly in the back of her mind and the only time she'd managed to banish them was when she was with Oliver. She didn't know why or how, but when she was alone and talking or laughing with him, her parents and her bitterness and her desperate need to please melted away. She felt free of the shackles that held her down in everyday life. As she sat listening to her friends and thinking, however, she realized the shackles had never disappeared. She'd merely forgotten they were there.

The initial joy at seeing her friends dissipated and the smile slid off her face. She hadn't realized she wasn't keeping up her appearance until Nicole gently elbowed her in the middle of Danielle's thrilling story of shopping for a set of American designer robes.

"Aud? Is everything alright?"

Audrey glanced between her friends, tears suddenly tickling her eyes. "No."

* * *

"Yes," Oliver finally said, answering his friend's question. "I'm quite sure I am, actually. I don't know what I'm doing, I…" He leaned forward on the table between them. "I fancy her. I know she's Slytherin, but you don't know what she's really like until you're alone with her. It's like she's got this mask – this _front _– that she has to put up. And then when we're together, it's… and she's… Look, say something, will you?"

Fred chuckled. "Mate, if I even knew _what _to say…"

"What about Denise?" George asked.

Oliver felt his stomach twist uneasily. He had hardly given her a thought since Christmas morning when he'd sent off her belated gift. It wasn't as though he'd cheated on Denise or anything, seeing as how they'd only had one date and weren't officially boyfriend and girlfriend or anything. It still felt wrong to him, however, to have been going around kissing Audrey so soon after going on a date with Denise, especially when he'd previously been quite excited about the idea of more dates with her.

"That's right," said Fred. "I thought you fancied her?"

"I… do," Oliver shrugged. "She's a great friend, we have a lot of fun, but I… well, then there's Audrey."

"I don't envy you, mate," Fred laughed giving Oliver a slap on the back. "I don't envy you at all."

* * *

**A/n:** Poor Oliver's life is starting to get awfully complicated… have you picked a side yet? Are you team Audrey or Denise? Thanks for reading!


	21. Back to Business as Usual

**A/n:** Various other ships have subtly made their way into this fic. I couldn't stop them even if I wanted to! ;)

* * *

**Chapter 21 - Back to Business As Usual  
**

For the moment, Oliver shelved his "girl problems" and returned to his first real love: Quidditch. He spent most of the rest of the day out on the pitch, practicing and playing hard. He thought about the disastrous match against Hufflepuff in the fall, about Harry Potter falling off of his broom, and more. He focused on trying a back-handed pass, as Audrey had noted it was one of his weaker moves.

Later that evening, Oliver found Harry seated on the couch in the Gryffindor Common Room with his friend Ron. He approached the pair, a bit uneasy about the topic he had to bring up with his Seeker, but knowing it had to be done nonetheless. After a brief chat about their respective holidays, Oliver asked,

"I was wondering Harry, about that last match. If the Dementors come 'round again, we, er, can't exactly afford you to, well…"

"I'm working on it," Harry replied at once, filling Oliver with relief. "Professor Lupin said he'd teach me some spells to ward them off."

Oliver nodded and proceeded to ask his Seeker about procuring a new broom. Though he was immediately dismayed to learn Harry had not in fact ordered a new broom yet, his worry was quickly replaced by incredulous joy when Ron piped up excitedly,

"He got a Firebolt for Christmas."

"Seriously?" Oliver grinned. "A _real_ Firebolt?" The brooms were brand new and extremely expensive. Oliver would have been jealous of Harry's apparently rich friend or family member, had he not been so thrilled by the idea that _his_ Seeker was going to be riding the newest, fastest broom available.

"Don't get too excited Oliver," Harry said glumly. "I haven't got it anymore. It was confiscated."

"What in Merlin's name for?"

"McGonagall took it to check it for some hexes and curses," Harry explained in the same sullen tone. "She said I wouldn't be getting it back until she was sure it wasn't jinxed or something."

This horrifying prospect was followed by the declaration that the reason for McGonagall subjecting the broom to magical tests was because she was under the impression that the escaped murderer Sirius Black was after Harry and had sent the broom. Oliver found both ideas fairly ludicrous.

"Black is a wanted fugitive," said Oliver. "It's not like he can walk into Quality Quidditch Supplies and buy a broomstick, for Merlin's sake."

Harry agreed. "She still wants to strip it down, though, just in case."

Oliver shook his head. There was no way he could let someone – even a teacher – _strip down_ an expensive broom like that – a_ Firebolt!_ It was masterpiece, an achievement, a work of art! He hadn't even seen one in person, but he'd certainly been following its development in _Quidditch Illustrated_ for several months and the pictures were breathtaking. The idea of it being dismantled over the possibility that an escaped murderer was after a thirteen-year-old Quidditch player was simply too much.

"I'll talk to her Harry," said Oliver. "She'll have to see reason. It's a _Firebolt_."

* * *

Oliver, like nearly every other student, was quite reluctant to rise the following morning. There was nothing worse than having to get up early on a cold, dreary Monday in January, the day after Christmas holidays. Even so, he was one of the first of the first to rise. Lee snored on loudly as Oliver dressed and exited the dorm.

Katie, especially, was not pleased. She barely said two words to him during breakfast and he knew her well enough to wait until she'd "fully woken". He refrained from verbally greeting her until she arrived at Charms class with Denise. Flitwick seemed to be running late, as there were several students gathered outside the locked classroom.

"Can I say 'good morning' now?" Oliver teased.

Katie grunted.

"You can say it to me," Denise laughed. "I'm fully awake."

"Very well. Good morning to you, Denise."

"And a very good morning to you too."

Katie rolled her eyes.

"Oh, stop being bitter that it's the Monday after holidays. It had to come eventually," Oliver playfully elbowed his friend.

She groaned.

Flitwick arrived moments later, as Oliver and Denise were exchanging thank-you's for their respective Christmas gifts to one another. The Professor apologized for his tardiness, mentioning it was a result of a complicated situation involving a rubber chicken, two first years and a Jumping Jinx.

Still in "holiday mode", the students, including Oliver, Katie and Denise, had great trouble focusing and buckling down to complete the projects Flitwick assigned to them for class. Talk of Christmas, the ever hot topic of Sirius Black and then Flitwick's pre-class issues kept them abundantly amused, though also resulted in them being stuck with a sizeable amount of homework. They complained sufficiently about it and then agreed to meet in the Library at the end of the day to complete it.

* * *

For perhaps the first time in his life, Oliver found himself actually looking forward to Potions class. He was eager to see Audrey as he hadn't for several days and found himself missing her company after spending basically the entirety of the two or so weeks of holidays with her.

He took his usual seat and set his things up, and Audrey slid into her seat beside him minutes before class began.

"Cutting it close," he smiled at her.

She acknowledged him, but her smile was really only a vague half-smile. He quirked his eyebrow.

"You alright?"

She slapped open her Potions book. "I'm fine, thanks."

He watched her, confused, then shrugged. He wasn't in the mood to pry. Besides, he assumed she was probably just having a bad day, or perhaps like Katie, tended to spend the first few days following the holidays acting cranky.

Snape swept in and doled out their assignment. As Oliver and Audrey worked, he noted the stiff way in which she seemed to move around him and quite disliked the cool tones she used when she asked him to pass her ingredients. He was forcibly reminded of the uncomfortable classes they'd spent together where the conversation was absolutely minimal. It was a harsh contrast to the hours they'd spent chatting over Christmas.

"Aud, did something happen?" he asked. "You seem… well, you don't really seem like you want to talk to me."

"I don't have a problem talking to you," she said, not looking at him. "You're my partner for all assignments until Professor Snape says otherwise."

"Yes, but…" He paused as he added the proper amount of Extract of Violet to the cauldron between them. "Are you sure everything is alright?"

"Everything's _fine_, so please stop bothering me." She snapped.

He didn't want to, but decided to leave it alone. For now.

* * *

Over the course of the week, Oliver threw himself into Quidditch practices. He didn't have time to worry about why Audrey was acting strange, or anything else for that matter. There was an upcoming match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin and depending on the outcome, it could affect Gryffindor's standings in the race for the Cup. He spent hours in the evenings going over plays with Katie and the twins, then the rest of the team during practices. He was more determined than ever to win that Cup and swore that nothing could possibly derail that.

Alicia teased him that she hadn't thought he could get any more obsessed about Quidditch. Oliver countered that when she had her hand on the coveted Quidditch Cup, she'd be more grateful for his obsessiveness. Angelina asked if they could have fewer practices since she felt like she didn't have enough free time. Before Oliver could get agitated by this request, however, George interjected,

"Oh, so you and Fred can have more time to snog?"

Angelina looked suitably embarrassed but Fred beamed.

Oliver glanced between the pair. "You two are together?"

Fred put his arm around her. "Indeed we are, mate. Officially."

Oliver was firstly surprised no one had thought to mention this to him before now and secondly that he hadn't noticed it or figured it on his own (their constant lateness to practices and disappearing acts throughout the evening now made much more sense). He then had to give them a mini-speech about team members being involved, but they all hushed him and he conceded he was actually quite happy for the pair.

"But I will make you run laps around the pitch or something if you keep showing up late," he warned and Fred laughed.

* * *

Once again in Potions, Oliver arrived before Audrey and after she took her seat beside him, she acted quite coolly towards him.

"I don't want to pry – "

"Then don't."

"But what's going on here? What's up with you?"

She still refused to look at him as she bent her head to dutifully take down notes. Oliver was forced to keep quiet while Snape lectured, lest he get in trouble for not paying attention. The class turned out to be solely a lecture class as Snape briskly informed them of the various things they would absolutely need to know for their final exam coming up at the end of the month.

Audrey was packed and out the door in a hurry the moment class ended and he had to run to catch up with her. Once he did, he caught her arm.

"Audrey – "

"Ex-_cuse_ me!" She said hotly and pulled away from him.

Her blonde friend stifled laughter behind her hand as the pair melted into the throng of students making their way to and from classes. Oliver watched them go, feeling more confused before. What was going on?

* * *

After supper, Oliver bravely approached the Slytherin table with the intent of having a private chat with Audrey. He was quite tired of her avoiding him or acting like nothing had changed between them and he needed a straight answer.

As soon as he was near enough, Flint and a handful of his closest friends threw out some choice words and nicknames which Oliver did his best to pointedly ignore. Other Slytherins looked surprised to see a Gryffindor coming to their table, others disgusted. He tapped Audrey on the shoulder, startling her.

"Hey, can I talk to you a minute?"

"I'm sorry," said a brunette with a sneer on her face. "What do you think you're doing?"

Oliver kept his eyes on Audrey. Though she'd turned in her seat to face him, she wasn't smiling or acknowledging him otherwise.

"Audrey?"

"Is this about our Potions assignment?" she said in that same irritatingly cool tone. She tossed a glance sideways to her red-headed friend, looking like she couldn't help but humor Oliver.

"What's wrong, Woody?" Flint piped up from across the table. "Can't manage your homework by yourself?"

"I can manage _fine_, thanks, I just need to – "

"You know, I kind of think you should leave." Audrey's blonde friend interjected. "I don't think Audrey wants to talk to you."

"It'll be just a moment, and – "

"Oh do sod off, Woody, you're not welcome." Audrey tossed her hair and swivelled in her seat to face the other Slytherins, many of who laughed and started in on insulting Oliver and his intelligence.

He felt his face grow hot with embarrassment and reluctantly backed away. He left the Great Hall and nearly ran into Lee, exiting the Hall with Alicia and the twins.

"Alright?" he said.

Oliver didn't answer and pushed past them.

* * *

**A/n:** Ouch. _Now_ who's team are you on? ;) Thanks for reading and reviews are always deeply appreciated, from one word to one hundred.


	22. What Friends Are For

**A/n:** Insert witty introductory and/or informative author's note here.

* * *

**Chapter 22 - What Friends Are For  
**

It was freezing cold outside and he hadn't brought a proper coat or any of his gear, but just like that tower had been Audrey's place to be alone and think, the pitch was his. Oliver stood out in the snow, shivering and angry.

He couldn't wrap his brain around the way Audrey was treating him – or, perhaps more accurately, didn't _want_ to. He'd felt so confident in their friendship just a few days ago, and now it seemed like she'd reverted to the status of disliking him. Was she messing with him? Was he just fooling himself that the time they'd spent during holidays had been real?

He'd told the twins that when he was alone with Audrey, she dropped her guard, dropped the act. What if _that_ had been the act?

His thoughts went in circles and he tromped new paths in the snow for quite some time until he couldn't bear the cold anymore and trudged back to the castle. He wandered aimlessly about the corridors for quite some time and when he encountered Audrey exiting the Library with her arms full of schoolbooks, he lifted his chin and walked past her.

"Oliver, wait," she hurried after him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, are we talking now?" he snapped and increased his pace, in no mood to speak to her any longer if she was going to be that way about things.

"Please, just hold on," she moved in front of him, blocking his path.

He stopped and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Look, you can't just… _come up_ to me like that. Nobody – none of my friends know about you. I can only imagine how they'd react if they found out how I spent my holidays." She offered him a small smile, a flash of the fun they'd had.

"How they'd react?" Oliver snorted. "Because spending your time with me is such a _horrifying_ notion."

"It is to them! You know as well as I do how deep the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor runs."

"And that's a good reason to insult me, is it?"

She flushed uncomfortably. "I had to keep up appearances, didn't I? They think I hate you."

"Is that what you told them? Look, I thought we had something, Audrey. I thought we had a good friendship going – "

"We do!" she exclaimed earnestly.

"It can't mean that much to you if you can't even tell your friends how you really feel about me." He paused, glaring at her. "Unless that really is the way you feel, in which case tell me now, so I can stop being delusional."

"Stop it, Oliver. I care about you, I _do_ – "

"I can't even talk to you in front of your friends for fear of how _bad_ that makes _you_ look. Doesn't really seem like you care."

She huffed. "Oh yes, and I'm sure if I came over to your table to talk to you in front of your friends, they'd be all wonderful and supportive."

"They would," he said immediately. "Because I told them about the _fun_ I had with this amazing girl over the holidays." He didn't mention their shock over the fact that he said he'd fancied Audrey or how they had not been comfortable with the idea that Oliver was receiving Quidditch tips from a Slytherin.

She regarded him sceptically.

"They _would_," he repeated.

"We'll see."

* * *

At breakfast, Audrey stiffly approached the Gryffindor table. Oliver couldn't help but notice that Audrey must have come earlier to breakfast without her friends and he knew it was because she was worried about them seeing her talking to him again.

He stood with a smile when she came close enough. "This is Audrey," he said and quickly introduced his friends.

They politely, if somewhat awkwardly, exchanged greetings. Oliver had somehow been expecting warmer reactions from his friends and was immediately disappointed by their lack of enthusiasm and their thinly veiled suspicion as the stilted conversation turned briefly to Quidditch. Shortly, Audrey excused herself and Oliver followed her.

"See?" he said, hoping she hadn't noticed the glances he kept getting from Katie or the way Fred and George were barely holding back from making some rude comments.

She rolled her eyes and headed away, saying over her shoulder, "Well, I think that proves my point."

He followed her. "Oh come on, Audrey, give them a chance."

She shook her head with an irritated sigh and began walking away. He wanted to say more, wished he could convince her to stay, but couldn't help but feel disappointed with his friends' reception of her. He watched her go.

* * *

That evening, while Angelina, Lee and the twins were enjoying a game of Exploding Snap, Oliver returned from a long Quidditch practice alone and he seated himself amongst them.

"What was that all about at breakfast?" he asked.

"What was what?" Katie, idly flipping through a magazine, questioned without looking up.

"I was trying to show Audrey that my friends were more accepting than hers and, well..." he trailed off and gestured helplessly at the lot of them.

Fred shrugged as he took his turn. "We did our best, mate, but she _is_ Slytherin."

"Come on, they're not _all_ bad." He tried and when he received varied looks of scepticism and amusement, he snorted with irritation then added, "And here I was thinking we were actually above that sort of thing."

Katie sighed and regarded her friend. "It's not just that Oliver. She hangs around with Flint and them all the time. Haven't you noticed that?"

"Have you ever thought she might be..." Alicia, seated beside Lee but not playing the game, began uneasily and didn't finish.

Oliver narrowed his eyes at her. "Might be what? Go on, say it." He glanced at the others, all pointedly not meeting his eyes. "Go on - someone. She might be what?"

"Using you, mate." George piped up from the chair beside Katie.

Oliver stared. "_Using_ me? For what, exactly?"

"You told us she's been giving you Quidditch advice," said Fred. "Where do you think she's getting it from?"

"What, you think she's getting it all from _Flint_?"

"Look, isn't it even a tiny bit possible?" Lee spoke and then proceeded to take his turn at the card game as he continued. "This is, after all, the girl who was making your life hell for a while there, and then suddenly she's all sunshine and roses, conveniently just as Quidditch season comes in to full swing?"

"She - " Oliver began to protest but Angelina interrupted.

"She _happens_ to be your Potions partner? The class taught by the _Slytherin_ Head of House?" she said. "Then she happens to stay behind for holidays, same as you, with none of her other friends, and now you two get on so good, that she's coming to all your practices and giving you tips?"

"All the while, she still is seen very often in the company of your biggest rival, one Marcus Flint of Slytherin?" Katie put in.

Oliver didn't know how to reply. When they said it like that, it did seem plausible. Still, he couldn't believe it to be true. Could she truly be that cruel and manipulative? Was she really taking direction from Flint, of all people? Was that why she used to come to so many of Oliver's practices? To learn his secrets and new moves, then pass that information on to Flint? Once upon a time, he'd had a similar thought, but…

"No way," he finally said aloud. "There's no way Flint is that smart to come up with a plan like this."

"Maybe not," Fred conceded. "But that doesn't mean she doesn't have ulterior motives."

* * *

Oliver slept fitfully that night. He tossed and turned and couldn't seem to get the Audrey dilemma off his mind. As much as he wanted to deny his friends' words, they were sticking in his mind and filling him with doubt. Audrey's cool behaviour towards him, especially in front of the other Slytherins, didn't help matters.

Suppose they were right? Suppose she really was just using him for Flint? Suppose she had simply used him as company over the holidays and nothing more? At that moment he wasn't sure which would hurt worse: if she was Flint's spy or if she'd only been nice to him so she wouldn't have to be alone over the holidays. Either way left him with a broken heart.

He knew he would have to talk to her, but struggled to think of what he could say or how to even broach the subject. He tended to avoid conflicts, not stir them up.

As if his worries and doubts about Audrey were not enough, there was always Quidditch to worry about. A match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw was fast approaching, and as much as it absolutely pained him to even think it, he hoped Slytherin would win. If they did, and Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw in their match following, it would bump Gryffindor to second place in the standings for the Cup. He had had to explain this thoroughly and repeatedly to his team in previous practices, as they found the idea of cheering for Slytherin in any capacity as deplorable as he did.

His dreams that night were plagued with Flint, losing the Cup and a sneering Audrey.

* * *

_Dear Diary,_

_I know you were hoping for an update on Oliver and I, and I finally have one. Though he's absolutely throwing himself into Quidditch, as usual at this time of year I suppose, we're going to have a night to ourselves later this week. He has seemed really distracted and agitated the past few days, and Katie told me it has something to do with that Slytherin girl who used to mess with him. I guess their friends now or something._

_Anyways, so I wanted to do something nice for him, so I asked him to set aside an evening for us to hang out. I'm not sure if he realized I meant just the two of us, but I doubt it will be a problem, as we had so much fun together in Hogsmeade back before Christmas holidays. I'm planning to make us a little picnic to enjoy – I haven't decided where yet though._

_I hope it will be very romantic. I'm still worried about how I feel around him – after so many weeks and months of feeling like I was falling in love with him, it deeply confuses me how platonic I feel towards him now that we are finally moving in a romantic direction. Maybe – at least, I'm hoping – what I need is a romantic touch to things. Our outing to Hogsmeade was fun, but it felt like how we normally are. I feel like maybe if we interact in a specifically romantic setting, my feelings for him will be reignited and things will finally be smooth._

_That's the idea, anyways. And if I still feel like his friend… well, then I'll just have to be content with that. _

_Denise_

* * *

**A/n:** Insert witty catchphrase that inspires people to review here. ;)


	23. Mounting Suspicions

**A/n:** Know how I know I watch too much of _The Office_? Because after I wrote the chapter title, I thought, "That's what she said." Anyways, to more story relevant things: if I say anything, I'll give away my intentions or I point you to details I'm hoping you won't notice, so I'm just going to sit back and do nothing ("That's what she said.").

* * *

**Chapter 23 - Mounting Suspicions  
**

The match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin arrived and to Oliver's simultaneous despair and joy, Slytherin squeaked in a victory. Knowing his team would have to work that much harder in order to best Ravenclaw in their upcoming match against them, he moved the team's practices up to five a week. It was going to be tough, what with homework, assignments and all, not to mention a bit inconvenient seeing as Madame Hooch was still required to oversee their training sessions. Oliver's determination to see the Cup in his hands, however, could not be dampened.

* * *

That evening, Oliver was for once not out on the pitch practicing, but instead in the Study Hall trying to slog through the mountain of homework he had accumulated. He would normally do it in the Common Room with his friends, but he'd found them to be terribly distracting – the twins especially. When he'd left, they had been having a competition to see who could balance the most objects on their heads. He was deep into a lengthy essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts when Audrey slid into the seat next to him.

"Hey," she greeted.

He glanced up. "No friends around, I take it?"

She sighed. "Are we still fighting about this?"

"I'm not the one who can't be seen in my company lest I be ostracized." He knew he was being mean, but he was tired and cranky. It didn't help that the things his friends had said to him about Audrey were eating away at him.

"Can we please just drop it?" she asked pleadingly. "You don't understand what it's like."

Oliver stopped focusing on his essay and finally regarded her. "Why wouldn't I?"

She shook her head and with a heavy sigh, stood to leave. He reached out and caught her hand, preventing her from doing so.

"Audrey," he said, his tone soft. "Just explain it to me. If we're really friends, if we're really more than friends… you can tell me."

She bit her lip and seemed like she was about to spill everything. He caught a glimpse of the vulnerable girl he'd been privy to over the holidays. Just as quickly, however, he saw her close up. She dropped her gaze.

"Another time, okay?"

He wanted to know what she was thinking, wanted to push her, but something about her manner told him to just let it go, just like he had on New Year's Eve. He reluctantly backed off. The subject of conversation switched to Quidditch for quite some time, until Oliver realized he hadn't touched his essay in over an hour. They spent the next hour or so in silence, working on their respective homework, though she packed up and practically bolted when she saw a group of her friends enter the Study Hall. He glowered at her retreating figure as she embraced her blonde friend and proceeded to wave cheerily at the others. The conversation with Fred and the others rang in his ears and it was with great difficultly that he managed to focus on his assignments once again.

* * *

The following evening, when Oliver had finished a gruelling solo Quidditch practice, he was quite startled to find Audrey in the Gryffindor locker room when he came in from the cold.

"How'd you get in?" he asked.

She shrugged a bit sheepishly. "Door wasn't locked."

"You know you're technically not supposed to be in here," he said and sat down on the bench to remove his dirty outer robes and various pads and guards.

"I know. But I watching you practice – "

"You were?" He felt an odd swell in his chest. He hadn't thought she'd come to see him play since Christmas holidays, and wondered how he hadn't seen her in the stands.

"Of course," she smiled. "I was going to say, I came to tell you that I noticed a few things out there today. You've really been working on your backhand – it looks much better."

"Thanks," he grinned. He had indeed been working on it ever since she'd pointed out the weakness. "I still haven't gotten a handle on that Frankenyork Underpass, though."

"It's getting there. That'll be good against Ravenclaw – their Chasers are pretty inexperienced when it comes to the Frankenyork series."

Oliver glanced around the locker room and asked, "Sorry, do you happen to see a large red towel - ?"

He spotted it on the bench behind her and she scooped it and held it out to him with a wide grin. As he took a couple steps forward to retrieve it, she pulled it back, her smile growing. He chuckled.

"I'm going to need that, Aud. I'm a right sweaty, filthy mess. I've got to go take a shower."

Still she pulled the towel away from him until he was standing inches before her. She moved closer still until they were practically touching. He saw the look in her eyes, and his heart raced up a few notches. She smelt amazing, like a mix of fresh flowers and lemon, and for a few fleeting moments, all of his friends' comments and his doubts fled.

"I care about you," she whispered, her eyes glittering. "You know that, right?"

He nodded slowly, briefly wondering how he must smell terrible to her at that moment – all sweat and dirt. He moved his hands to her forearms.

"I care about you too, Audrey," he said gently back. "Very much."

Their lips met slowly and he relished the long kiss that followed. She didn't seem to mind at all that he was grimy from his lengthy Quidditch practice. His limbs felt on fire and he could've sworn there were whole packages of Exploding Snap going off all around him. He kissed her deeply and wished that things could just be easy with her.

Eventually they pulled apart.

"I really do have to have a shower, you know," he said.

She laughed. "Yes – you smell awful."

"You didn't seem to think so a moment ago," he teased.

She laughed again, then became serious. "Look, I know I'm a total mess, but… just stick with me, alright?" She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "See you around."

Once she'd gone, Oliver found himself having an unusually cold shower.

* * *

Oliver got dressed in the morning, and continued about his normal daily routine, until he discovered a couple of things were missing. He briefly searched the dorm, then the Common Room, then turned his trunk practically inside out. The black socks he'd been intending to wear were not really a big deal, as he had various other socks in other colors to wear as substitutes, though he was fairly certain the black ones had been his last clean pair.

The other item, however, was his journal of Quidditch plays and not finding it _was_ an issue.

Percy emerged from the bathroom and was gathering his bag for class when Oliver stopped him.

"You haven't seen my journal lying around by any chance, have you, Perce?"

Though he sniffed with distaste at the nickname, he answered, "No, sorry, I haven't."

"Alright. Let me know if you do."

Percy left the dorm room as Oliver surveyed the room perplexedly. Where had it gotten to? He ran through the previous day in his head trying to remember where he might have left it. It practically never left him, so where did he manage to forget it?

Lee stirred in his bed.

"Oy Lee," Oliver called and his friend groaned a response.

"Have you seen my journal?"

He got a negative sounding groan, which he took as a no. With a sigh of frustration, Oliver realized he was going to be late if he didn't get going. He scooped up his things and headed out.

* * *

By suppertime, he still hadn't found his playbook and was starting to feel panicky. He was severely regretting never bothering to charm it with a password and tried desperately not to think of the possibility of it falling into the "wrong hands".

He'd checked the Common Room and the dorm room repeatedly, every Study Hall, the Library, and any classroom he'd been in the previous day. He'd asked around, but no one seemed to have seen it out of Oliver's hands. He bolted down his supper and went to the pitch, but after searching the locker room then the pitch's field in case he'd somehow dropped it, he was beginning to feel certain someone had stolen it.

He voiced his suspicions to Katie, and immediately disliked the uncomfortable look she had on her face.

"What?" he demanded. "Do you know who took it?"

"I have a guess," she said uneasily.

Oliver straightened, sensing at once who her guess might be. "Come on, not this again."

"Just think about it! Oliver, she – "

"_Stop._" He snapped hotly. "I happen to like this girl, very, very much and I do not want to hear how you all think she's some bloody _spy_ for Marcus _sodding_ Flint. She's Slytherin, yes, I _get_ it. It does not automatically make her pure evil, for Merlin's sake."

"Oliver – "

"_Piss off._"

She looked hurt but left the corner table to join George by the fire.

Oliver's face was hot. He regretted being so angry with Katie, but she was wrong. She _had_ to be. Audrey would not have stolen his Quidditch book and it was ludicrous to even suggest it. Except there was that dark cloud of doubt again, hovering and feeding his suspicions.

He clenched his jaw. _She cares about me_, he thought firmly. _I've seen it, I've felt it. She didn't take it. I've misplaced it and it will turn up. That's it._

And he told himself that over and over until he believed it.

* * *

Their kiss in the locker room was still fresh in his mind when he sat next to her in Potions. He felt a rush of warmth when she looked at him, but then she didn't smile. In fact, she wouldn't meet his eyes. He immediately felt a pang of dread, first thinking of how she'd blown him off initially after the holidays and then thinking of his playbook. What if that was the point all along? To string him along, long enough that he totally trusted her, to snatch up his secret weapon, and then drop him like a hot potato?

He gave himself a shake. The doubt was getting to him and he wouldn't let it. He _couldn't_ let it.

"Alright?" he asked with a grin.

She either didn't hear him or chose not to answer. Snape called for their attention and they began class. Once they started in on the assignment of the day, he tried again.

"How are you?"

She raised her eyebrow at him, irritated. "Fine."

"That's all I get? 'Fine'?"

She ignored him until he grabbed her arm, upon which she met his gaze with her own startled one.

"Don't, Audrey," he shook his head. "_Don't_… You can't tell me you care and then come in here and act like an entirely different person. Either you're with me or you're not."

She yanked her arm away from him and began chopping up ingredients for the potion assignment. "Another time," she hissed under her breath.

"It's always another time."

"Listen, Wood – "

He slammed his Potions book shut loudly enough that a few students nearby jumped at the noise. Snape stopped his rounds to glare at Oliver.

"Sir, I apologize, I'm feeling extremely ill, may I please go see Madame Pomfrey?"

Snape's expression didn't change as he drawled, "You don't look the least bit ill to me, Wood."

"Raging headache and nausea increasing by the second," said Oliver. He made his best queasy face.

Though Snape looked quite unconvinced, he also didn't seem to want to take the chance in case Oliver was telling the truth. He gave him an irritated wave of his hand, mumbling something Oliver didn't catch as he did so. Oliver thanked him and hastily gathered his things. Audrey watched him with a shocked expression but said nothing. He shot her an icy glare on his way out and he could feel her eyes boring into his back.

* * *

Things between Audrey and Oliver remained frosty after that class. He was still frustrated with her for her previous coldness, and the things his friends had said to him were still plaguing him with doubt. On top of that, he still had not found his journal. They spoke to each other only when absolutely required during Potions for a couple of classes. By the third class, he had decided to ask her about his playbook, when Snape swept over and he lost his chance.

"Miss Lewis, Mr. Wood. Your grades, contrary to everyone's expectations, have improved – _marginally_." His lip lifted just slightly as if he was displeased that they were doing better in his class. "As your final examinations approach, you will no longer work as a partnership. You will," he leaned forward with an unpleasant look in his eye and added, "Be on your own."

As he swooped away, Oliver couldn't help but feel like Professor Snape seemed almost eager to see him fail. Well, he'd show him – he'd been studying harder for this subject than any other. He absolutely refused to retake Potions, especially remedial Potions.

Audrey glanced at Oliver and then swiftly gathered her things and went to another empty seat. He felt his heart sink. Now that she didn't _have_ to sit beside him, she wasn't going to? Not that they were currently speaking to each other, but somehow it still hurt.

He spent the rest of the class brooding and pretending he wasn't.

* * *

**A/n:** Thoughts? Opinions? Feedback? I'll take it. Thanks for reading!


	24. Them

**A/n:** Presenting a chapter that, for the most part, I'm solidly happy with. (Yay!) Thanks for reading!

* * *

**Chapter 24 - Them  
**

The one bright spot in his week, it seemed, was the end of it when he was planning to hang out with Denise. With all the end of semester final examination preparations in nearly every class, homework and studying, all of his Quidditch practices both with his team and alone, he felt like he hadn't seen or really talked to her in weeks.

He missed being with her greatly, as she seemed to always make him feel lighter and warmer when he was around her. If it wasn't for Audrey and the complicated mess he had with her, he thought, he'd very likely be more actively pursuing a proper relationship with Denise.

* * *

Oliver was deep in thought about his personal Quidditch session that morning before classes, when he rounded the corner and spotted Professor McGonagall finishing a discussion with another student. Harry Potter and his Firebolt sprang to Oliver's thoughts and he hurried after the professor.

"Yes, what is it, Mr. Wood?" she asked at once when he'd reached her.

Though he already had a feeling she knew exactly what he was going to question her about, he proceeded anyway.

"Er, I was just wondering about Harry's broom, Professor."

McGonagall gave an aggravated sigh, confirming his feeling that she'd been expecting his question. Before she had a chance to properly reply, however, he ploughed on.

"If we're going to win the next match, Harry has _got_ to have his own broom. Not only to practice on, but also for the match itself." He explained. "He's got to know the feel of it, how it moves and runs. That Cho Chang is an excellent Seeker – we need all the help we can get."

"I know, Wood," she said with exasperation. "Don't think I'm not trying to hurry the process along, but we must be thorough."

"It doesn't seem like it Professor," Oliver remarked with a half-shrug. "I mean, he got it for _Christmas_ – "

"I am quite aware of how much time has passed," McGonagall replied testily.

"But Professor, how long could it possibly take? He's _got_ to have that broom! We absolutely _must_ win against Ravenclaw!"

"I appreciate your fervour, but – "

"If he doesn't have that broom, we'll be at a _huge_ disadvantage. You can't really expect him to catch a Snitch on bloody Cleansweep or something, can you?" He pleaded. "Look, I'm sure you've checked for all the worst curses and hexes, so couldn't you just let him have it for a few practices and then the match? You can go right back to checking it over after that. I mean, even if it throws him, as long as he catches the Snitch – "

McGonagall straightened and her nostrils flared dangerously. He knew he'd gone too far. "Young man, you need to sort out your priorities if you think that _winning_ is more important than the safety of your team members."

"Professor, I didn't mean – " He calmly attempted to backtrack but she gave him a quelling look.

"Potter will receive his broom only once we have determined beyond a shadow of a doubt he shall not be killed or maimed upon riding it." She glared at him, her lips tight and thin, and then added in a low voice, "Do I make myself quite clear?"

Oliver hung his head but replied, "Yes, Professor."

"I am _very_ aware of how badly we need this, Mr. Wood, I promise you." Her tone was marginally softer, but still left no room for further comment from him. "Merlin knows it's been years since I had the Cup in my office. But it is not worth someone's life. Now, _do not_ ask me again."

Oliver nodded reluctantly. Satisfied, McGonagall walked away, her robes sweeping and swirling behind her.

* * *

His mind was full to the brim with Quidditch moves, plays and the like for the next week's match against Ravenclaw and Oliver had taken to doodling Quidditch related things during class. His homework load was growing because of it, but he found he couldn't help it. Though he for the most part enjoyed his schooling, he still looked forward to the day when he could use all of his energy exclusively towards a Quidditch match rather than having to worry about homework, exams, assignments, revisions and so on. Or stolen playbooks.

"That doesn't look much like the theory of the Hair Growth charm," Denise teased in his ear.

Oliver chuckled, pulling his mind out of the play he'd been running in his mind. "Sorry – when such a critical match is coming up, it's kind of all I can think about."

"Aren't they _all_ critical matches?"

He smiled a bit. "Yes."

She sighed. "You seem so preoccupied and stressed all the time because of Quidditch. Don't you ever relax about it?"

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Playing _is_ when I'm calm and relaxed about it. Everything goes away when I'm up there. It's exhilarating. Haven't you ever played?"

She shook her head vigorously. "Absolutely not."

He was about to ask her why the tone of disgust, when he heard his name being called by Professor Flitwick. He snapped his attention to the front.

"Am I interrupting?" Professor Flitwick asked and amusedly raised an eyebrow.

"No, sorry sir," Oliver answered hastily.

"Would you be so kind as to answer the question, then, please?"

Oliver glanced at the chalkboard for clues but had no idea what had been asked. "Er…"

A few snickers and giggles rippled around the classroom, followed by Flitwick asking Oliver to please pay closer attention. He then turned to Percy, who had his hand raised high, for the answer.

"The counter-curse is _Relondius_, from the original English wizarding spell _Relond_, used to simply lengthen facial hair. The modification to the charm was created more than a decade later to include hair of any kind." He rattled off in that know-it-all tone of his and Flitwick praised him before moving on with the lecture lesson. Percy shot Oliver a look, and Oliver rolled his eyes dramatically before returning them to the papers on his desk before him, covered in plays and notes, both Quidditch and Charms related and tried not to dwell on his still missing journal.

Once the bell rang and they were exiting class, Denise apologized for getting him in trouble during class.

"Don't worry about it," Oliver waved her off. "I was the one not doing the Charms notes."

They laughed and talked amiably on their way down to the Great Hall for lunch. He expressed excitement for hanging out with Denise that night and she promised a special surprise for him. They parted ways once in the Hall to head to their respective tables with a smile and wave.

* * *

Oliver was running late for Transfiguration, weaving through the crowded corridors while holding up a stack of notes in front of his nose. They were having a quiz first thing that class and Oliver hadn't studied at all the previous night, having been on the pitch until almost past curfew. He was desperately trying to cram and while he was worrying about what McGonagall would do to him if he was late, he was caught completely off guard as he was yanked by the arm into a nearby classroom.

His papers and book bag went flying, he stumbled and the door slammed shut. He was just in the process of cursing and producing his wand when he realized it had been Audrey hauling him unceremoniously off to the side.

"Bloody _hell_, Audrey!" he snapped and bent down to gather up his things. "What's this all about? I'm already late as it is!"

She hastened to help him pick his things up, red in the face and looking quite embarrassed. "I'm sorry! I just had to talk to you for a second and you've been avoiding me. You haven't talked to me all week – "

Oliver huffed. "Yes, there's a reason for that. Look, I really don't have time for this, Audrey - "

She passed him some of his books which he jammed back into his bag. "I wanted to wish you good luck in the match next week."

He stopped stuffing his bag full messily to stare at her. "You nearly pulled my arm out its socket to wish me _good luck_?" he said incredulously.

She shifted uneasily. "Well, and I wanted to see how you're doing, and… actually, I was watching you practice this morning and you know when you swoop to counter the Handratti Manoeuvre – "

"Did you steal my playbook?" He asked abruptly.

"I – _what?_"

"Did you or did you not take my black journal, full of Quidditch notes and plays and sketches?"

Her mouth hung open in shock for a moment before she finally managed an angry protest. "Of course not! Why in Merlin's name would I?"

He shook his head. "I've got to go." He started for the door, but she stopped him.

"Hold on! You can't just throw out an accusation like that and walk away. Why would you even _think_ I would take it?"

"Because I can't find it anywhere and the last time I remember seeing it was in the locker room that night, with _you_." Oliver answered, his face flushed with emotion. He hadn't meant to just blurt it out like that, but he was feeling raw and exhausted and it had slipped out before he'd been able to stop it.

"And of course, because I'm a _Slytherin_, you would have to _assume_ I would just _take _it!" she shouted back at him. "Heaven forbid that you simply _misplaced _it!"

"It's not that wild of an accusation – you're pretty close mates with Flint, who happens to be my biggest rival, in case you hadn't noticed."

"So what? You think I stole and gave it to him?"

When Oliver didn't reply, she seemed torn between punching him between the eyes and bursting into tears. She opted for a steely glare, then added in a low voice,

"Good to know what you really think of me."

His shoulders sagged. "Aud – "

She shoved past him and wrenched open the door with a loud _bang_.

He hadn't meant to hurt her feelings like that, hadn't meant to be so angry. He rubbed his eyes with his fingers then remembered he was still late for Transfiguration.

* * *

"Everything alright?" asked Denise.

"Hmm?" Oliver looked up from his feet as they walked. "Yes, sorry. I, uh, have a lot on my mind." That wasn't untrue, as he was still worrying about the match against Ravenclaw, but his mind was also still swirling with his latest fight with Audrey. He hadn't seen her the rest of the day and was greatly regretting his words to her.

"You just seem really distracted. We can do this another time, if you want."

He shook his head and offered her a smile. "No, it's alright. I need a distraction for once and I've been looking forward to relaxing."

Her eyes lit up as she returned his smile. "Good, because I've got a really lovely surprise planned."

Moments later, Denise led him into a darkened room that was a classroom by day, but which she had transformed into a beautiful atmosphere. There was a small table, laden down with treats and desserts, and there were floating candles and what looked like Christmas lights lending light to the room.

"What do you think?"

"This is brilliant."

They sat down at the table and for a good couple hours, they talked and laughed and enjoyed the treats. It felt good to be relaxed, to not be worried about Quidditch or schoolwork, to just spend time with Denise. Most of it all, it felt good to forget about Audrey for a while. As the night went on, however, he began to feel little stabs of guilt the more romantic things felt and the more he and Denise flirted.

He wasn't sure if she'd intended this to be a date, but it certainly felt like one. He'd never gone on a date with Audrey, though he'd certainly kissed her several times. Did it make him a bit of a player to "have" two girls like this? He supposed not, since he wasn't really dating either of them, but realized he'd have to pick. He couldn't date Denise and kiss Audrey on the side. At that moment, the decision seemed painfully easy: he was fairly certain he and Audrey were not on speaking terms, yet here he was on a lovely date with Denise.

And yet he felt like something was holding him back from just "choosing" Denise. He wanted to believe it was something else, that he needed to tell Audrey he was choosing Denise before he technically did, perhaps. He knew, however, it was because as complicated and messy as things with Audrey, he still found himself caring too much for her and even now, still couldn't erase how he'd felt with her during the holidays.

_Maybe_, he thought. _With any luck, she's out and about and I can tell her now. _

Even if she wasn't, he decided he'd send off a note to get her to meet him in her tower, perhaps, and talk to her then. Apologize for earlier and then explain that he wanted to remain friends – and only friends. He figured she'd likely be upset, but hoped that his apology would smooth things a bit. Besides, they fought and made up often enough, maybe he still could retain her friendship at some point (but did he _really_ want to?).

"Denise," he reached across the table to clasp her hand. "Can you give me a few minutes? I'll be back."

"Sure thing," she smiled warmly.

* * *

As luck with have it, he didn't have to look long or too far. He headed up a floor to the Library, then up another floor to the Study Hall where he had once worked on assignments with Audrey. He was back on the second floor when he rounded a corner and saw her. Or, more accurately, _them_.

Audrey, her back against the stone wall, clutching the shirt of and snogging, one Marcus Flint.

* * *

**A/n:** That moment has been in my mind from the conception of this story, though the story itself has been heavily modified and re-modified. I'd love to hear everyone's reactions!


	25. Call It Off

**A/n:** Dedicated to the Oliver/Denise fans out there. ;)

* * *

**Chapter 25 - Call it Off  
**

For a second, he stared, almost unable to process exactly what he was seeing. His friends' words – _ulterior motives, using you, seen in the company of your biggest rival_ – felt like they were exploding before him. He felt hot with anger then dangerously cold and removed. Deep hurt was there somewhere too, but he forced it away – hadn't he let this happen? Practically brought it on himself by ignoring everyone's advice?

He cleared his throat noisily and the pair broke apart, startled.

"Oliver," Audrey exhaled and her cheeks went red. She hastily corrected, "I-I mean, Wood – "

"See something you like, Woody?" Flint said snidely. "I was wondering what that foul smell was all of the sudden."

He'd been a fling, he finally realized, someone to entertain her during the holidays at best. At worst, she'd never felt anything for him and had simply used him to get his journal and give it to Flint. Previously he'd wondered which scenario would hurt worse and now he had his answer. It _all_ hurt, very, _very_ much.

"Do you have a problem, you git?" Flint snapped when the Gryffindor neither moved to leave nor replied.

Oliver locked eyes with Audrey who had created distance between herself and Flint.

"Not anymore." Oliver turned on his heel.

He heard a sharp intake of breath and then Flint used a few choice insults on his rival. Oliver increased his pace and then he was running blindly, the anger and hurt threatening to completely overwhelm him. Once or twice he thought he might've heard someone call his name, but he didn't stop, _couldn't_ stop. He pelted down the steps and outside and his feet didn't stop hammering the ground until he'd burst into his sanctuary: the Quidditch pitch.

He collapsed on the frozen ground and watched his breath rise in large misty clouds. His face was on fire and he couldn't begin to describe the tornado of emotions raging through him. He'd been stupid to trust her, to be her friend, to let her play him. He'd been stupid to ever let his journal out of his sight, to allow her to stay in the Gryffindor locker room like that when they both knew she wasn't really supposed to be there in the first place.

He'd been stupid to _fall in love_ with a _Slytherin_.

When he found he was shivering from the cold, he hauled himself up from the ground and headed into the locker room to warm up. He settled on the bench, elbows on his knees, head down and covered his face with his hands. The image of her kissing Flint seemed burned on the back of his eyelids and he couldn't make it disappear.

He ran through his experiences with her in his mind and felt deeply betrayed. She'd been awfully excellent at acting, he concluded. He'd really fallen for her, really fallen for the charm and warmth she'd shown him during the holidays. At the time, he'd felt special to her, someone she was allowing to see the "real" her behind the Slytherin image she constantly had to present.

Oliver stood and began pacing with agitation and frustration. He lashed out with a yell of fury, slamming his fist into the locker before him. Unsurprisingly, it was quite painful. It only made him feel all the more angry, however, and he proceeded to hit the locker harder and harder several more times, the slamming of his fists punctuated by shouts. He finally stopped when he realized he may have actually broken his hand.

He gave the locker a final hefty kick for good measure before seating himself back down on the bench. He cradled his arm and glowered at the row of lockers before him, suddenly feeling drained and somewhat less angry.

He couldn't remember when he'd become so emotional about anything besides Quidditch. He was easy going – except when it came to _her_. It was like she'd somehow flipped an internal switch or removed some sort of wall; his emotions rode so close to the surface when it came to her and his outburst over her betrayal only served to reiterate that.

He stared down at his throbbing hand, bleeding where the skin had split and now sporting a variety of colourful bruises.

"Bloody moron," he mumbled. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the pain as he thought up how he was going to explain his injury to Madame Pomfrey.

He jumped with a start when the locker room doors opened with a mighty _whoosh_ of cold air.

"Oliver?"

He turned to see Denise enter the locker room, wrapped in a winter coat and sporting a pink scarf with matching pink gloves. She removed her gloves as she walked towards him.

"Are you alright? You were gone for so long, I was worried something had happened."

"Oh, bloody hell, I'm so sorry!" Oliver shook his head. The business with Flint and Audrey had completely driven his night with Denise from his mind and he felt terrible for standing her up.

"Merlin, what happened to your hand!" She swiftly sat beside him on the bench and reached for him.

He chuckled bitterly and gestured with his good hand to the dented locker. "I, er, got into a fight with a locker."

"Well I think it won!" she said, her eyes wide. "Is it broken?"

"I'm not sure – _OW!_"

She gently grasped his hand and began cautiously inspecting it. Oliver protested and sucked his breath in through his teeth as pain surged through his hand but he relaxed when she finally released him.

"I don't think you broke it," she said with a soft sigh. "Not for lack of trying, though."

"You're not Madame Pomfrey," he snapped, his hand aching and smarting.

"No, but I do plan on being a Healer once I'm finished at Hogwarts," Denise replied patiently. "I've been studying a lot this year and I know loads of spells already. Madame Pomfrey has even taken the time to teach me a few herself after hours."

He was honestly impressed but he was still in pain and felt very much like being alone.

"Did you want to explain why you decided to beat up a big piece of metal?" she ventured with a tentative smile. As she glanced at the locker, which Oliver had truly done a solid bit of damage to, she covered her mouth and giggled.

"It's not funny," Oliver growled. Except she laughed louder and then suddenly he was laughing too and he wasn't entirely sure why. He felt better for it, however, and when their laughter finally died away, she reached for his injured hand again.

Pulling out her wand, she mumbled a few swift spells and immediately the pain melted away, followed by the blood and bruises. When she was finished, all that remained was a few faint pink lines where the skin had been split previously.

"There, how's that?"

He flexed his hand experimentally and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Wow - it's perfect."

"The scars will go away in a few days. I haven't quite mastered how to erase those yet."

"No, it's fine," he said. "Really, really good."

She grinned and he met her gray-green eyes. Her long blonde hair was running down her back like a wavy waterfall and she looked flushed and pleased.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. It was nothing."

"Thank you for earlier too – for the room and the date." He moved his face closer to hers. "Thank you for being my friend." He brought his hand to her cheek and inched closer until his lips met hers.

There weren't fireworks or explosions, no feeling of being transported to another dimension, no bolts of electricity frying his senses. He did, however, feel an intense flood of warmth. It was soft and sweet, special in a unique way. She kissed him back, somewhat hesitantly. He relished how her hair felt between his fingers and when they finally pulled back, he felt a grin grow across his features.

He laced his fingers between hers and they headed back to the castle together.

* * *

Oliver kissed her goodbye outside the stairs leading to the Ravenclaw dorms and thanked her again for the wonderful evening. He promised that their next date would be all him and she said she was looking forward to it. He headed back to Gryffindor feeling light and refusing to dwell on anything except the fun he'd had with Denise.

He was looking forward to telling his friends that he and Denise were officially an item, and was completely thrown when he arrived in the Common Room and they already knew. Apparently Denise had dashed off a note the moment she'd reached her dorm and it had beaten him to Gryffindor Tower. They were mostly congratulatory, especially Katie.

"That's great, Oliver!" Angelina smiled. "She's real nice."

Alicia agreed and Lee commented that he also approved. The twins said they were glad for him and Denise but there was no missing the look of confusion in their eyes. As the others moved on to other activities or to attend to schoolwork, Fred and George pulled Oliver aside.

"The other day you were telling us about the Slytherin girl you fancied, and now you're suddenly dating Denise?" questioned Fred.

"Yeah, what happened there, mate?" George leaned forward on the table and gave Oliver a nod with his head.

Oliver stiffened and dropped his gaze to his hands. "Nothing happened."

The twins exchanged glances.

"Don't you know when someone says _nothing_, they really mean _something major_?" said Fred.

Oliver sighed heavily. "I don't want to talk about it." He immediately stood and headed up the dorms, leaving the twins watching his retreating figure in bewilderment.

* * *

He was still awake several hours later when the twins finally came up to go to bed, though everyone else had turned in ages ago. He heard them whispering as they got ready and when one of them disappeared into the loo, he sat up and yanked back his bed hangings, startling Fred.

"She was with Flint," he stated flatly.

Fred's mouth fell open but he recovered quickly and asked, "Audrey?"

"You were right – all of you. Go ahead," snapped Oliver. "Say 'I told you so'."

His friend's shoulders sagged as he exhaled heavily. "Mate, I'm so sorry."

"Yes, well," Oliver looked away from the red-head's pitying gaze. "I'm probably better off now anyway, right? She's a Slytherin after all. And it's not… it's not like I really cared that much about her anyways."

"Right, 'course."

"Well, 'night then." He hastily closed his bed hangings and knew Fred didn't believe the last part.

He didn't either.

* * *

**A/n:** Poor Oliver - just when Audrey seemed like maybe she wasn't so bad…! Thanks for reading – I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one.


	26. Oliver Vs The Ravenclaws

**A/n:** I just found out Mr. Sean Biggerstaff / Oliver Wood will be appearing in Deathly Hallows, Part 2. Count me as overjoyed! :D Plus, the title of this chapter is a mini shout-out to one of my fav shows ever, Chuck. Watch it on Mondays and have your world rocked with awesomeness!

* * *

**Chapter 26 - Oliver Vs. The Ravenclaws  
**

As the weeks rolled by, Oliver's primary concern was Quidditch. Whether it be practice, training, learning or perfecting new moves, matches and so, his focus was quite centered on the sport, much to the dismay of Denise who seemed to grow increasingly less patient with the amount of time he was devoting to the sport. She complained that as his new girlfriend he should be spending more time with her than a Quaffle, but Oliver would brush her off with a smile. This was his life and she would get used to it.

Though he still remained hurt by Audrey's betrayal, he made no effort to reconcile and neither did she. During Potions she sometimes would try to catch his eye or would shoot him a mixed look of pleading and guilt but he forcibly ignored her. He didn't need her trying to manipulate his feelings anymore. She had Flint and he had Denise and that was that.

He was very good at pretending Audrey had meant as little to him as he appeared to mean to her. He did it so well most days that his friends began to forget entirely about his interest in Audrey, and he himself felt convinced he'd never actually been as into her as he'd felt at the time. Every once in a while, however, his eyes would stray at meal times or he would catch a glimpse of her in the hallways and with his stomach jumping in that familiar way, knew he hadn't gotten over her at all.

* * *

A few days before Gryffindor's match against Ravenclaw, Oliver was overjoyed upon entering the Common Room to find Harry Potter had finally received his Firebolt back from McGonagall.

"Just got it," Harry grinned and stroked the shining broom.

"She didn't wreck it," Oliver breathed. He knew Professor McGonagall wouldn't intentionally damage the broom during her examination of it, but he couldn't help be worried that such a work of art would suffer under the various magical tests it probably had been put through. "Oh, it's just _brilliant_, Harry."

"Isn't it just?" Ron, off to the side in a chair, sighed in awe as Harry turned the broom gently in his hands.

Oliver's eyes roamed endlessly over the flawless broom. What he wouldn't give to own such a magnificent broom. His features broke into a wide grin. "Ravenclaw will be no match for us now with you on that, my friend."

Harry grinned back.

They spent the next hour or two talking about Quidditch and the merits of the various brooms over the years. The twins joined them at one point, then gravitated off to play a few card games, which Oliver later joined. They went to bed late and Oliver had lovely dreams about Harry's wonderful broom.

* * *

At practice the following evening, Madame Hooch was supervising as usual but took several moments to admire the broom as well. Practice was excellent, thanks mostly in part to the way Harry's broom was incredibly fast and he was able to repeatedly catch the Snitch with ease. Everyone played hard and Oliver ended the practice feeling especially pleased with his team.

Back in the castle, he ran into Roger Davies who was on his way to his own team practice, and they traded several good natured barbs about each other and their teams before heading their separate ways. Oliver was in such a good mood in fact, that when he was passing the Library and Audrey came out, nearly knocking right into him, it didn't dampen his spirits save for a sudden pang of emotion which he quickly ignored. He politely excused himself as he swiftly side-stepped her and carried on his way.

She didn't call after him. He had half expected her to – almost wanted her to and had to fight the urge to turn around and say something. But what could he say? There was nothing _to_ be said. Besides, he had a match tomorrow and that meant he didn't need anything else on his mind. It was time to focus.

* * *

The following morning, Oliver ate very little as a result of his usual pre-match nerves filling up his stomach. When Harry arrived in the Great Hall with his broom in tow, heads turned and Oliver noted with glee the look of shock on Flint's face at the sight. The noise level in the Hall rose considerably and people stood and peered trying to get a look at Gryffindor's Seeker and the Firebolt in his hands.

Oliver sat back and grinned like he'd won a hundred Galleons.

All through breakfast, various students approached the table for a closer look at the broom which they had laid in the middle, name facing up.

"That is _brilliant_, Harry," said Cedric enthusiastically when he came to see the broom. "A really excellent replacement for your Nimbus. You should no trouble winning today – don't tell Roger I said that." He chuckled.

"Said what?" Roger came up beside Cedric.

"That your shoddy team has no chance against us with this secret weapon of ours," Oliver joked with a wink.

Roger slapped his hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. To Cedric, in a mock accusatory tone, he said, "How could you! After all we've been through."

The three Captains laughed.

As Roger inspected the broom over Harry's shoulder, he let out a low whistle of approval. "Bloody nice, I have to admit. What a dream to have that for your Seeker, right Wood?"

"You have no idea." Oliver answered.

Following breakfast, it was time for the match. Unlike the terrible match against Hufflepuff, the weather was very favourable: sunny and cloudless, though cool and breezy. This only added to the good feeling Oliver had as he prepared to step out onto the pitch with his team.

"You know what you've got to do," he addressed them. "If we lose this match, we're uh… we're out of the running. So…" he swallowed, nerves swirling in his stomach. "Look, let's just play the kind of game we played yesterday in practice and we'll be fine."

As they entered the pitch, the applause was deafening for both teams. They made their way to Madame Hooch, as did the blue-clad Ravenclaw players.

"Shake hands," Madame Hooch instructed once the Captains were beside her.

"Hope your Seeker is on top of things, mate," Oliver winked.

"Me too!" Roger joked.

They stepped away from each other and took their positions. A moment later, Madame Hooch's whistle sounded signalling the start of the match.

Oliver flew immediately to his place in front of the goal posts. He noted with amusement Lee's commentary as he prattled on about how amazing the Firebolt was, and then with even more amusement when Professor McGonagall repeatedly cut in to get him back on track with _actual _commentating.

He watched as Katie sped down the opposite end of the pitch, Quaffle in hand. She performed a complicated manoeuvre to avoid a couple of Ravenclaw Chasers attempting a steal and then flew high for a shot on goal.

"That's my girl," Oliver murmured. "Shoot it, come on…"

She gave the Quaffle a skilled toss down and to the right, sending the ball sailing through the goal hoop. Oliver pumped his fist in the air triumphantly.

He flicked his eyes briefly to his Seeker and his breath caught when he saw Harry abruptly dive. Had he really spotted it already? Cho Chang, Ravenclaw's Seeker, was too far away to intercept him, but one of the Bludgers was smashed Harry's way by a Ravenclaw Beater. Though Harry dodged it smoothly, it had done its job: Harry had lost sight of the Snitch.

Oliver slapped his broom in disappointment. _Good move, Rog. _He thought.

The game progressed and the Quaffle made its way from hand to hand, back and forth across the pitch, neither team seeming to be able to maintain possession for long. His team scored a few more times while some Ravenclaw Chasers managed to slip three goals past Oliver. After the third, Oliver's eyes sought Harry, his face burning with frustration at having let in a third goal.

At that moment, his Seeker was racing unwaveringly towards the Gryffindor goalposts, flying low and his eyes fixed ahead. Chang swooped in to intercept him and Harry veered off course in order to avoid smashing head long into her. Oliver wished he'd have just ploughed on and knocked her off but simultaneously silently congratulated her. She knew she had the weaker broom, so she was playing smarter rather than faster.

A Ravenclaw Chaser was coming barrelling down the pitch straight for the Gryffindor goal posts and Oliver readied himself to make a save, reading any flicker of intention that the Chaser might give off. Then suddenly the Chaser was slowing, looking down, distracted and so were other players. Oliver looked too and saw three dark and hooded figures pointing and waving up at the players above.

He barely had the time to think they were Dementors like the Hufflepuff game, register fear (and confusion – where was the usual intense internal cold?) before a bright light was coming from his right. A massive white stag bore down on the figures; he recognized it as a Patronous charm, though he'd only begun learning about them this year as it was quite advanced magic. Then Madame Hooch's whistle blew and Oliver was turning to see Harry with his wand in one hand and his Snitch in the other. At that moment, he didn't have the presence of mind to be in awe that third year Harry Potter was casting a seventh year spell, only that the glint of the Golden Snitch was in his hand and that Gryffindor had therefore won the match.

Down below, the hooded figures weren't Dementors after all. He recognized the blonde head of Flint's Seeker, Draco Malfoy, and better yet, Flint himself, as they struggled to extricate themselves from their disguises. Seeing Professor McGonagall striding across the pitch in a towering rage to the startled boys below only made the match win feel even sweeter.

Once on the ground, Oliver was able to see Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall haul Flint and his cronies away before scores of students began closing in on the pitch to talk to and congratulate the various players. Oliver and Roger managed to find each other and congratulate one another on a good game. Oliver promised to buy Roger some soap for the smell and the Ravenclaw Captain laughed, slapping his friend's back.

"Congratulations on the win, Oliver," Denise found him in the crowd and shouted over the noise.

"Isn't it a conflict of interest for you to be in Ravenclaw but cheering for your Gryffindor boyfriend?"

"I was Switzerland," she laughed. "I cheered for both sides equally so I cancelled out my vote for who I wanted to see win."

Oliver chuckled and pulled her into a tight hug, his body buzzing with the excitement and adrenaline of the win. Denise pushed him away quicker than he'd have liked and wrinkled her nose.

"You are a wet, sweaty mess!" she exclaimed.

"That's what happens when I play Quidditch," he replied with another laugh.

She grimaced. "I wish you wouldn't."

He quirked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Oy!" George came jostling through the crowd and punched Oliver's shoulder. "Oh Captain my Captain, there is a big victory party awaiting us, let's go!"

"On my way!" He called to his friend then turned to Denise. "I'll see you soon." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried after the twins, excitedly recounting every moment of the match.

* * *

**A/n:** Reviews are wonderful things, their tops are made outta rubber, their bottoms are made outta springs! They're bouncy, bouncy, trouncy, bouncy, fun fun fun fun fun! The most wonderful things about reviews is they're not the only one. They're nooooooot the only one! (But Tiggers ARE the only one. Just sayin'.)


	27. Dear God, Make Me A Bird

**A/n:** Yup, a _Forrest Gump_ reference for the title of this chapter. I kind of wanted the whole thing: "Dear God, make me a bird, so I can fly far, far away" but it was a bit long. ;) Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 27 - Dear God, Make Me A Bird  
**

Flint first tried to put his arm around her shoulder, and when she shrugged him off in irritation, he tried to hold her hand instead.

"Will you quit?" Audrey said waspishly.

"What's your problem?"

She turned the page of her book with a loud snap. "As I've told you about one hundred and twelve times by now: _sod off_."

Flint's brow furrowed and he only hesitated a moment or two before he placed his hand on her thigh and slid it upwards.

She slapped him away hard and glared at him as he smirked in amusement like this was some kind of cute game they usually played.

"Cut it out, Flint, I'm warning you."

"Look, Audrey, what's the big deal? Everybody else is at the Quidditch match. I stayed behind so we could be alone. You're always worried about being all close to me in a crowded Common Room but you're never up for a good snog when we're actually alone." He shifted closer to her on the couch. "Besides, I saw the letter from you parents too. I know they want you to be with me instead."

Her face flushed hot. Nicole had had no right – _no_ right at all. She'd taken it upon herself to write to Audrey's parents reporting that Audrey was dating the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. That hadn't gone over well. She hadn't quite gotten a Howler, but she might as well have, it would've been just as painful.

Her mother had scornfully reminded her of the Lewis family's standings in society and what a black mark it would be for word to spread that their standards were so low as to allow their daughter to be dating the son of Mudblood sympathizers. Never mind that Audrey had tried to explain that she and Oliver weren't, in fact, actually dating, the problem was that she had ever considered it, was even friends with him. Didn't she care about the family? Her father? Did she _want_ to make her family look like fools? Why couldn't she just be more like her brother Kerrick? And so on the letter went, for a whopping six pages that left her in tears.

Then Danielle had seen the letter (and she was terrible at keeping anything to herself) and had blabbed to Marcus Flint, who had always seemed to hold a torch for Audrey. He could barely get over the ridiculousness that Audrey had feelings for someone like Oliver Wood and taunted her relentlessly about it. Faced with further humiliation, Audrey had had to prove to her friends and peers that she wasn't trying to destroy her family's reputation and she didn't have feelings for Oliver Wood (which she most certainly did, but no one but her and Oliver needed to know that). So she gave Flint a good snog right in the middle of the Common Room much to his surprise and delight. She'd demanded he and Nicole report that she was no longer with Wood, which Flint did easily and Nicole promised she would when she believed Audrey was telling the truth.

And so had started the weeks in which Audrey had begun to pretend to date Flint but only in public while she wondered how in the world she could get back to Oliver. He'd seen her and Flint snogging in the hall – a moment in which she'd been trying to keep her distance from him and he'd taken it upon himself to kiss her. Of course _just_ at the moment when the man she _actually_ cared about would come waltzing around the corner. Seriously, at this point, she was quite convinced the universe was in fact conspiring against her.

"Yes and that was weeks ago, now, wasn't it?" Audrey said coolly. "Oliver and I never were an item, as I keep telling everyone. I don't know where that kind of gossip comes from." She tossed her hair and tried to return to her book.

Flint leaned in and started trying to kiss her neck and that was the last straw. Audrey stood and slammed her book down on the table with a loud bang. She strode swiftly towards her dorm.

"Wait a minute," the Slytherin Captain stood. "I see what's going on - you're just using me. You just want to be around me when _everyone else_ is around – so you look good for your parents!"

Audrey turned. "Well spotted, Marcus. Took you long enough."

He seemed to struggle with indecision for a moment then said, "I'll tell. I'll tell everyone. Unless - "

"Unless what?"

He tried to come up with an ultimatum but after a few seconds of silence, Audrey sighed.

"You know what, go right ahead." She shut the dorm door behind her, locked it and settled herself on the floor with her back against it. She heard Flint left in a huff a few moments later, hollering something about heading to the Pitch.

The letter from her parents was folded up small in her pocket and she retrieved it slowly, emotions swirling.

Months ago she wouldn't have cared. She could have carried on, being the perfect Slytherin daughter and once graduated, slip away, disappear, like she'd always wanted to. She was a mistake to them? Unwanted? Fine. Let them have their perfect son. The blemish on their perfect lives would disappear and change her name and they'd never see her again and that would suit them all.

Then she'd had to go fall in love with Oliver bloody Wood, and all his Gryffindor glory. If she had just controlled her feelings in the first place like she used to be able to do, she wouldn't be in this mess. Heart broken, alone, lying to everyone, missing Oliver, pretending to date Flint, dying for graduation day which was still another torturous year away. She wouldn't have had to feel _any_ of it and she was absolutely certain it would have been easier.

Tears blurring her vision, she pulled out her wand and murmured a spell, setting fire to the letter and watching it burn away to nothing in mid-air.

* * *

The party in the Gryffindor Common Room was fantastic.

Oliver didn't think he'd ever had so much fun in his life. With the amount of celebrating going on, it was as though they'd already won the Cup. There was food and games, laughter and excitement. It was a blur of good times and he couldn't get over how amazing it was to see Flint getting berated and led away for breaking some major rules. He only wished he'd been able to hear the entire scolding they'd received.

He, like most everyone else in the Common Room, quite lost track of time until Professor McGonagall came clambering in through the portrait hole in a dressing gown and tersely informed them it was well past one in the morning and demand they all go to bed at once. She waited impatiently until the last student had headed to their respective dorm rooms.

Oliver didn't feel remotely tired as he dressed in his pajama bottoms, and was glad to see that Fred wasn't feeling sleepy either. They talked quietly about the match for at least another half an hour before Percy piped up and snapped hotly,

"Will you two _give it a rest_?"

"Oh, was our near-silent whispering disturbing your deep and meaningful beauty sleep, Perce?" quipped Fred blandly.

"Professor McGonagall asked us to go to sleep and –"

"Ordered, more like," said Oliver.

"Forced – " Fred put in.

"Threatened we go _or else_ – "

"Insisted angrily – "

"Made a fiery demand –"

"Good one." The red head nodded.

"Thanks!"

"Take your pick, Perce."

"Definitely never asked." Oliver finished.

"And she did say we had to go to _bed_ at once," Fred said thoughtfully. "She didn't say we had to _sleep_ at once, and we _are_ in bed, so we're not actually disobeying orders."

"Fred, it is _implied_ that when she said – oh for Merlin's sake," Percy growled. "The point is, she told us to get to bed and if you don't bloody shut _up_ and go to sleep so the _rest of us_ can get some, I'll – "

"Take points away from your own house because you're Head Boy?" Oliver rolled his eyes. "I've never heard you utter _that_ threat before. At least not today, anyway."

"Wait, what? Percy! You never told me!" Fred exclaimed in mock astonishment. "You're _Head Boy?_"

Oliver snorted behind his hand.

"Just go to sleep." Percy huffed.

Fred and Oliver snickered then proceeded to talk for just a few more minutes simply to spite Percy before closing their bed hangings and attempting to sleep themselves.

* * *

Oliver woke with a horrible start, not sure for a moment what had startled him out of his sleep so hard. There'd been a noise…

There was shout and thud signifying someone in his dorm tumbling out bed and then he realized he could hear shouts and scrambling happening all around, in other dorms and outside their door.

"What - ?" He began, blearily rubbing his face with one hand and ripping open his bed hangings with the other.

George was picking himself off the floor cursing, Lee was throwing open the door, Fred was putting on a shirt and Percy was turning on the lamp looking alarmed. Concern rising, Oliver followed Fred out of the dorm hastily, not bothering to find himself a shirt to cover his bare chest.

"What's going on?" he asked whoever would answer as he and Fred pushed their way into a very crowded Common Room full of students in nightclothes, half of them yawning and squinting, others frightened and confused. Everyone began talking over each other and then Percy came weaving through those gathered.

"Everyone back upstairs!" he said importantly.

"Perce – Sirius Black!" It was Percy's youngest brother Ron, pale and frantic. "He was in our dorm – with a knife! Woke me up – he was right over me!"

Like a freezing spell had been cast, everyone became completely silent and still. Oliver's breath caught in his throat.

"Nonsense. You had too much to eat – you had a nightmare." Percy said at once, and Oliver agreed. It simply couldn't be possible that serial killer had been in the dorms. Then again, it wasn't supposed to be possible for him to even be on the _grounds_ yet at Halloween he'd managed to make it up to the Tower to slash apart the Fat Lady's portrait.

Ron began trying to explain again in earnest but was cut off by Professor McGonagall returning to Gryffindor's Common Room. She looked even less pleased than before.

"Enough is enough!" she shouted and moved through the students who parted to make way for her until she was standing directly beside Oliver. "I am just as delighted as the lot of you that Gryffindor won the match today, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, as Head Boy, I certainly expected better of you."

"Professor, I was just about to get them all back to bed. My brother caused a commotion – he had a nightmare about – "

"It wasn't a nightmare!" Ron burst out urgently. "Professor, I swear, I woke up and Sirius Black was standing _right _over me, holding a _knife_!"

There was a second or two of silence before McGonagall replied briskly, "Don't be silly, Weasley. How do you suppose he could have got through the portrait hole?"

"Ask him!" Ron pointed a quivering finger at the portrait hole. "Ask him if he saw…" he trailed off swallowed, still looking quite shaken.

Professor McGonagall hardly looked convinced, but after studying Ron briefly, she swept back out of the portrait hole to have a word with Sir Cadogan. No one dared to breathe lest they miss a crucial word of the conversation happening outside the Common Room.

"Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?"

"Why of course, my good lady!" Sir Cadogan replied at once, rather jovially.

Oliver's heart seemed to stop beating. Ron hadn't been dreaming? A serial killer had been in their dorms? Was he _still_ in the dorms? He nearly turned around, imagining the man standing right behind him with a massive knife, ready to strike…

"You – you _did_? But – but how – the _password!_"

"Oh, he had 'em, m'lady," Sir Cadogan answered in a smug tone. He clearly had no clue of the gravity of what had happened, only that he'd followed the rules and let someone in with the correct password. "He had the whole week's worth, in fact. Read them right off a wee paper."

Oliver's stomach felt full of dread. A serial killer was running loose in the castle with a week's worth of passwords. Merlin's beard, _who_ had written them down only to lose them!

Upon re-entering the Common Room, pale and trembling, McGonagall asked that very same question. "Which astonishingly foolish person wrote down a week's worth of passwords and proceeded to leave them lying around?"

The Common Room was incredibly quiet until a very tiny whimper came from someone standing near Ron and Harry. Oliver recognized him as a third year, a real nice kid but with a poor memory. The boy, Neville Longbottom, looked like he might faint, puke or both as he slowly raised one very shaky hand.

Oliver winced.

* * *

**A/n:** Eeps! Poor Neville! Thanks for reading and I'm sure Neville would appreciate it if you reviewed. ;)


	28. Insight

**A/n:** Shortish chapter this time 'round, in which Oliver explains the incident with Sirius wasn't so bad! Enjoy. :D

* * *

**Chapter 28 - Insight  
**

The Gryffindor students stayed in the Common Room and no one seemed to want (or be able) to get back to sleep. The teachers spent the rest of the night combing the castle for any sign of Black but none could be found. This left Oliver with a decidedly queasy feeling rolling through his stomach the rest of the day.

At breakfast, the Hall was buzzing with the news. Everyone was dashing from table to table relaying what had happened or asking what was going on. Denise was frightened because she'd heard Black had actually physically attacked several students and Oliver had to inform her of the real story instead. He was consistently surprised by the variety and extremity of the versions of events that circulated between students.

"He only slashed someone's bed hangings is all," Oliver explained.

"_Only slashed bed hangings?_" Denise said shrilly.

"Calm down, nothing else happened. No one was hurt!" He assured her at once.

"But how did he get in?"

"Someone had written down the week's passwords and accidentally lost them. Black found them and used them." He spoke softly and calmly, trying to downplay things so as to put Denise at ease. He was still feeling awfully shaken himself however, so it was difficult to do.

The pair talked at length about the incident, speculating fruitlessly on Black's intentions and why he seemed so intent on getting into Gryffindor. Eventually they moved on to new subjects. When Oliver and Lee struck up a conversation about Quidditch, Denise let out a loud sigh and said she'd see Oliver later.

* * *

In the weeks leading up to Easter holidays, security in the castle became even stronger. The Fat Lady was back but now there were trolls patrolling in front of Gryffindor which Oliver really could have done without.

In addition, Oliver was no longer allowed to go out and have solo Quidditch practices. After a lengthy debate with Professor McGonagall about the importance of these practices (she understood, but couldn't have him jeopardizing his safety over it), he was allowed to resume them if and only if supervised by a teacher. This duty, after requests from both McGonagall and Oliver, fell alternately to Professors Sprout, Flitwick or Madame Hooch (the only ones willing or with time to give). Even then, Oliver had had to cut back his personal practices from six days a week to four to accommodate the compromise he'd struck with McGonagall.

Madame Hooch tended to doze off and then wake only to toss out critical comments (not always helpful but nonetheless appreciated) while Professor Sprout usually brought some plants or assignments to tend to or mark. Professor Flitwick seemed to completely enjoy watching Oliver practice and as well as cheering when the Gryffindor Keeper executed a particularly difficult move, would offer sound advice on a variety of plays and techniques. The sessions supervised by Flitwick fast turned into his favourite.

Following one particular practice with Madame Hooch, Oliver had exited the pitch and was heading across the grounds in the bright morning sunlight when he looked up and saw Audrey coming towards him. He steeled himself and dropped his gaze back to his feet – he had nothing to say to her. Nothing nice, anyway.

"Oliver…" she started softly when he was close.

He walked swiftly past her. For a moment he thought it would be like that moment when he'd brushed past her outside the Library, where he'd managed to keep going and she hadn't said anything. This time however, she turned around and called after him,

"Oliver _wait_."

He had no intention to stop, but his feet betrayed him and he slowed to a stop.

She hurried close and came around to face him. "We haven't spoken in weeks – more than a month, even, and I just need to… I need to explain. Please listen."

The hurt he'd felt at seeing her in the hallway with Flint bloomed again under her familiar gaze. "There's nothing to explain." He mumbled and took a step to bypass her. She easily blocked him.

"Yes, there is, because you don't know the whole story."

"And the whole story will make me feel better, will it?" Oliver snapped. "Look, I don't care what it was. You wanted company for the holidays, I was convenient. You used me, you stole my playbook, it's done, it's over."

Her face reddened and he could tell she was struggling to hold her temper.

"Please, just give me a _chance_ to –"

"You've used up your chances. I was always giving you a chance! The benefit of the doubt and you continually proved me wrong. You're a Slytherin to the core Audrey, and I was a fool for believing any different – for believing that you cared." Emotion swelled in his throat.

_He'd_ cared. He'd cared far more than he was willing to admit and she'd thrown him away like a piece of garbage. He held her hurt gaze a moment longer, feeling like he was drowning in memories and then managed to tear himself away, walking towards the castle.

"You stupid, _arrogant_ git!" she shouted and walked fast to catch up with him. "It's not all about _you_! I'm sorry that I wasn't _blessed_ with all the sickeningly perfect qualities that make someone a bloody Gryffindor, but being Slytherin doesn't automatically make me a horrible person."

"Oh yes, you're really doing a great job proving _that_ stereotype wrong."

She grabbed his sleeve so suddenly and forcefully that he stopped walking and faced her.

"You think you know me, but you don't. You really have no _bloody_ clue what I'm about, what I've been through. We had some great talks over the holidays, we really did, but you have no idea what I have to deal with on a regular basis. You have _no_ _bloody clue_."

Oliver opened his mouth to reply but she talked over him fast and hard.

"My parents are nothing like your parents, I can guarantee you that. I'm not someone they love or appreciate or are proud of. I do everything in my power to please them. I do everything I possibly can to make them see that I was worth their time, money and effort." She waved her hands as she talked and her eyes blazed. "I _chose_ to be in Slytherin because I knew it was expected of me and it would make my mother happy. I align myself with guys like Flint because my father sees it as gaining useful connections for later in life and that makes _him_ happy. I make the right friends and date the right people and stay in the right circles and I do _everything_ I'm told so they won't continue to wish that they had never had me."

She stopped to catch her breath, glancing down and back again. Audrey continued a moment later in a slightly quieter but no less firm tone.

"I do it because the day I graduate, I'm getting away from them. I can't do that while they're putting me through school, while they're busy providing for me out of social obligation. I can't bend a single sodding rule, have one word against them or it's over. They may live a hundred miles from here but believe me when I say they control me. And yeah, it's really that bad."

Oliver's shoulders sagged. In all of their talks, she had always managed to neatly side-step the subject of her family with vague answers and a change of subject. It'd never really bothered him, he'd never read into it and now he wished he'd pressed a little harder. If he'd understood her a little more…

Well, it wouldn't have saved him the heartbreak of seeing her snog his biggest rival, but at least he would have had the mind to realize how broken she was.

"And don't you _dare_ say I didn't care." Tears shone in her dark eyes. "I did - I still do, more than you know. More than I wanted to. And that's not going to change – trust me, I've tried."

"Aud…"

"Don't stand there and look down at me like that. You with your two, happily married parents who only want the best for you and let you make your own decisions. You, the _amazing_ Gryffindor Captain, who stands out from the crowd without even trying. You, with the circle of genuine friends, great grades and loving family. You can date anyone you want, care for anyone you want and your parents will support you." She shook her head and chuckled bitterly. "I bet you don't have a box buried in a friend's yard with money for your grand escape, do you?"

She finally let go of his sleeve and he couldn't single out a specific emotion as his feelings jumbled around inside.

"You can't even imagine what it's like," she said softly. "So don't you _dare_ judge me or think you know me. And for Merlin's sake, I _didn't_ steal your sodding playbook."

She headed away a moment later and Oliver was standing there until he realized he hadn't moved in fifteen minutes. He slowly made his way to the castle.

* * *

_Dear Diary,_

_My own boyfriend won't go to Hogsmeade with me. Alright, I'm being dramatic. But he complained that the Quidditch final is coming up and he absolutely has to focus. I'm not trying to sound bitter, but Quidditch? Over Hogsmeade? Over time with his girlfriend?_

_Okay, I should admit, I haven't really been a good girlfriend. I don't really know how to be with him. After months of having such a crush on him, I feel… just too platonic with him and I find it awkward. I keep dating him because he seems to really like me and I don't want to hurt him. Does it make me a horrible person? I really should be breaking up with him, even Katie says so. She shouldn't really be giving me love life advice, though, what with secretly dating George Weasley. You know she said he hasn't even told Fred, his own twin! She said they're trying to keep things quiet until they've decided "What they are", whatever that means._

_Anyways, the point is, I'm just fed up with Quidditch and feeling painfully unromantic and secrets. And homework. Which reminds me, I really should get that last essay done before Easter holidays…_

_-Denise_

* * *

The homework assigned to him to be completed over the holidays lay in a forgotten pile by his nightstand. He spent nearly every waking moment doing something Quidditch related. He'd procured a new notebook after his first had gone missing (it still bugged him where it possibly could have gotten to) and could be seen sketching and drawing out plays and moves, finalizing them in his mind. When he wasn't sketching, he was practicing.

Since it was the holidays and the weather was growing nicer, the teachers had formed a schedule for the pitch to be supervised for a certain number of hours each day so students could use it. Oliver was usually there from the moment it opened after breakfast to when it closed before supper, only stopping briefly for a snack around lunch time. The Quidditch final against Slytherin was coming up on the first Saturday after the holidays and Oliver knew he had to be perfect – or better.

"You really should back off, Oliver," Katie advised one night when Oliver clambered in the portrait hole after a four and half hour practice. "You're going to burn yourself out and then what use to your team will you be?"

He cracked a tired half-smile. "Or you'll be thanking me when we absolutely smash them."

Katie sighed and returned to her assignment.

* * *

**A/n:** Thank you as always for reading! You know the drill.


	29. Just A Phase

**A/n:** Did a bit of research about Oliver's Quidditch career pre-Harry's time, and couldn't find much. It's not specifically said when he joins the team, though he was made Captain in his fifth year. Based on various comments and the utter desperation he displays in the 3rd book however, I very much got the feeling he personally was never on the team when Gryffindor last won the Cup, which based on how I'm writing it, would have been Charlie Weasley's fifth year being the last time the Cup was won. Just a random insight tid bit thing. :)

* * *

**Chapter 29 - Just A Phase  
**

Near the middle of the week, it became clear to Oliver that perhaps Katie was right. He was sore and exhausted and decided to cut back his daily practices or at least have a day of rest in between. He hadn't realized just how much he'd been hammering specific points into his various team members until practice later that night.

"Angelina," he began when they had all gathered. "When you do the Double Reverse Pass, you _have_ to be on top of it. You can't afford to miss – not against Slytherin. They'll use that to their advantage, counter with Blomiene Steal and then we'll be in trouble. You're weaker on the left with that, so you need to work on it."

"_Yes_, Oliver," Angelina snapped. "I am well aware."

Oliver disregarded her hostile tone and turned to Alicia. "Alicia, you need to watch that blind spot of yours. You continually get caught unaware and I don't want you hurt because – "

" – a Bludger comes from just the wrong angle when I wasn't paying attention to my apparent blind spot." Alicia finished irritatedly. "I _know_!"

"Er, right. Now, Katie – " he started.

"If you say that I still haven't gotten the hang of the Cuthbert Return and I need more time on the pitch, I'm gonna knock you out."

Oliver blinked. That had been exactly what he'd intended to say. He shook his head slightly, still not catching on to why his team seemed so uptight, and turned to Harry.

"Now, Harry, Slytherin is up by two hundred points. We've got to win the match, but you must _only_ catch the Snitch if we're _more_ than fifty points up, otherwise we'll still lose the Cup. It's real important that you only grab it when we're more than fifty – "

"I _know_, Oliver!" Harry exploded. He colored a little and mumbled, "Sorry."

Oliver straightened and glanced at his team. "Sorry, am I missing something?"

Angelina sighed. "Between practice, hanging out with you in the Common Room and you coming up to us during the day, we've all heard the same advice from you about a hundred times."

George nodded. "We know you want to win – we want to too. And I, as your good friend and dorm mate, know that you love to pick yourself apart and repeat to yourself what you need to fix until it is fixed. That's fine for you, but the rest of us don't work that way."

"At all," put in Alicia.

"You keep telling us the _exact_ same things and it's kind of driving us mad," said Fred and the others murmured in agreement. "We knew what we needed to work on or do the first or second time you told us."

"I didn't realize - I'm sorry everyone," Oliver apologized. "It's just that Gryffindor hasn't won the Cup since Charlie was still here, since I made the team. And we certainly haven't won while _I've_ been Captain." He grimaced briefly.

"I hope you're not thinking _you're_ the problem," said Angelina.

He was, in fact – the Cup hadn't been won since he joined the team in his third year, what more evidence did anyone need? Surely he had something do with it. He forced a laugh, however, and replied, "'Course not."

His team exchanged unconvinced glances but chose not to comment further.

"Just keep your obsessive repeating to yourself and it will be alright." Katie smiled.

Practice went smoother from there on, and by extension the holidays went smoother too. Oliver stayed aware of how much advice he was giving and kept it to himself aside from initially pointing it out to his fellow team members. Improvement was more marked as they were less frustrated with him as a result, and that made Oliver's spirits lift. The only damper on his otherwise lovely holidays was the way Denise seemed continually distant or busy with other friends. He chose not to read into it and carried on.

* * *

He chose not to read into it… until they fought, that is.

One evening the pair were seated across from one another in a study hall. Oliver was wrapped up in his Quidditch drawings and books, while Denise was struggling to write out a Transfiguration essay. They talked a little here and there, but mostly were focused on their respective work.

At various intervals, he would ask her how her essay was going and she'd reply with small smile and say something like, "Slowly" or just an aggravated sigh. Other times she would look up from her scrolls up parchment and ask what he was working on and he would answer something like "The Gunther Relay" or "I'm trying to see if I can combine the Montgomery Grey Pass and the Hammerhead Decoy into one slick play." It went like this for a couple hours until it was getting late and nearly all the other students had left.

Oliver leaned back, rubbing his tired eyes briefly before returning to rearranging various little figures with his wand.

Denise looked up, biting her lip. "Oliver?"

"Hmm?"

"Is it always going to be like this?"

"Like what?" he asked without looking up. When she didn't answer after a second or two, he pulled his focus away from the figurines reluctantly before him to regard her. "Like what, Denise?"

"This," she gestured at the notes and plays, figurines and Quidditch text books before Oliver. "The Quidditch thing. It isn't just a phase or a little boy obsession, is it?"

He stared at her, mouth agape, hardly sure he'd heard what he thought he'd heard her say. "Sorry? The 'Quidditch thing'?" He laughed in a disbelieving sort of way. "Yeah, it's always going to be like this. Are you seriously asking me - ? Do you even – Denise, I… I'm the bloody…"

"Okay," she said defensively. "Look, I was _asking_ – "

"If 'the Quidditch thing' is a bloody _phase_?" He raised his voice incredulously.

"You don't need to shout at me, Oliver!" her voice matching the volume of his.

"Why'd you even ask? Did you think it _was_ a phase or a – what did you call it? A _little boy obsession_?"

"I was hoping, yeah," she said bluntly.

He sat back as though physically pushed. Was she serious? The girl he'd been dating for a few months now, who he'd been friends (albeit not close friends) with for longer than that – was she saying she didn't like Quidditch? He was almost afraid to ask for fear of what her answer might be.

"Do you… do you not like Quidditch?"

She rolled her eyes. "Merlin, you make it sound like sacrilege to even _think_ such a thing."

"Well?" he pressed.

"No, I don't. You should've noticed that by now. It's not like I kept it a secret." She shrugged at him in irritation.

He wanted to protest – surely she _had_ kept it secret! There was no way he was dense enough not to notice that she disliked his favourite thing in the entire wide world. Then again, maybe he just hadn't properly taken notice. Now that he thought about, she often seemed to have a cool attitude towards the sport. She didn't share in the excitement like so many others did, she didn't seem particularly interested in exhausting the subject when it came up, and she had never even picked a home team to cheer for, for Merlin's sake. That should've been his first clue.

"You don't need to make it seem like I just told you I murdered your dog or something, Oliver." She slapped open her text book.

He put his hand over the part where she was reading. "No way, we're not done talking about this."

She reluctantly raised her gaze to him, still irritated with his angry tone.

He started out calm, but it didn't last and he couldn't help it. "Denise, Quidditch is _everything _to me. I'm planning to go pro once I graduate. It's my life! It's my passion! I mean, I… I'm the Gryffindor Quidditch _Captain_!"

"I'm sorry, it's not mine!" she countered. "I don't care about it at _all_ and I'm tired of feeling pretty ignored by you whenever you have a match coming up. Or a team practice or a solo practice or basically any time in between!"

"It's _Quidditch season!_" he burst out.

"With you it's always Quidditch season."

"You've been my friend – hell, Katie's friend – for a while now. Was this news to you?"

"No," she huffed, her cheeks pink with frustration. "I just thought you would cool down, I thought you wouldn't be into it as much anymore the older you got."

"Why did you keep – why did you _start_ dating me then, huh? If you can't stand Quidditch, and _knowing_ it is my number one passion. Why bother?"

She sighed and began packing up her things. "Forget I ever said anything."

"Not bloody likely," he scoffed and hastily threw his things into his bag as well.

They left the Study Hall, but the argument didn't stop there. It went on for another good half an hour in the hallway outside. They went back and forth until they finally seemed to run out of words. He dug his toe at the floor uncomfortably, wondering where they went from here.

Finally after a long, uneasy silence, Denise said quietly, "I think we should… we should probably break up, Oliver."

He quirked a wry half smile. "We're really going to break up over Quidditch?"

She shook her head and offered a small smile back. "No. I don't know if I could truly stand it much longer, though – not this degree. I just… it's just _so_ not my thing. No, I think we should break up because…" she sighed, struggling for the words she wanted. "Honestly, I don't think I feel _that way_ about you, anymore. And it's not fair to you that I keep dating you and being your girlfriend when I really just want to stay your friend. I…" she trailed off.

Oliver felt a little hurt. If he was being honest, maybe more than a little. But at the same time, he understood. He had noticed the distance she'd been slowly creating between them, and he was too focused on Quidditch to do anything about it.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"I understand," he answered, nodding. He smiled warmly. "I really do." He closed the gap between them to offer her a hug. When he pulled away, he noted how relieved she looked. "Friends?"

"Always," she returned his smile.

They parted ways amiably and as he made his back to Gryffindor Tower, he was surprised by just how alright he felt with his break-up with Denise. He'd appreciated having a girlfriend, but truthfully though they spent a lot of time together, the moments that were actually in any way romantic were few and far between. They almost never held hands, they kissed rarely, and though he felt comfortable being himself around her, he didn't feel comfortable being a _boyfriend _around her. It had always felt normal and platonic when they were alone, and that had suited him just fine. In fact, he was almost surprised they hadn't broken up sooner.

His friends were sad to hear the news, but once Oliver explained first their blow-up and then his reasoning for agreeing to break-up, they too understood.

"I can't believe she hates Quidditch," Lee mumbled, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Hates, she never said," Oliver laughed. "But I would say dislikes very much."

"How did you _not_ know?" asked Katie.

Oliver shrugged. "I guess I never asked. Never paid attention."

"Rookie mistake." Fred winked.

* * *

The following morning, Oliver made his way down to the pitch for an easy practice. He needed to clear his mind and it was just the thing. He made lazy saves and then some breezy loops and laps around the pitch before joining a casual game between a group of other students where he played as a Chaser. His team didn't win, but he had fun anyways.

As he got changed in the locker room some time later, the buttons on his sweater snagged on his Quidditch robes when he grabbed it to put it on. He wiggled and pulled and the sweater refused to come free. With one last yank, it came free – too free. The buttons ripped right off and scattered to the floor, several rolling into the gap under the lockers.

"Bollocks," Oliver mumbled under his breath and bent down to retrieve the various buttons.

The gap under the lockers was just barely large enough to allow his hand and he shoved it under, feeling through the dirt and grime for the lost buttons. He managed to find a two of four buttons, a few hair pins, an earring and a whole lot of dust. He pulled back and rolled up his robe sleeves to allow him better access and lay right down on the floor to shove more of his arm under.

Angelina came in at that moment, humming softly with her Quidditch bag over her shoulder. He sat up, brushing himself off.

"Hey Oliver," she greeted. "Lose something?"

"Yeah, my – " he didn't finish before she squealed. "What?"

"My earring!" she exclaimed scooping up the one he'd retrieved from under the lockers. "It was one of my favorites and I thought I'd lost it forever – I didn't know where I'd lost it."

"Ah, well there you go."

"Coming or going?" she gestured to his Quidditch robes, folded on the bench.

"Going. Just finished."

"Alright, see you 'round." She left to get changed.

With a sigh, wishing he hadn't left his wand in his trunk, he got back down on the floor and this time scooted farther up the row of lockers. This time he found some garbage, one more button and then his hand slapped what felt like leather. His brow crinkling in confusion, he grasped the object and swept it out from under the lockers. His breath caught in his throat.

It was his Quidditch playbook.

* * *

**A/n:** Hmm, seems someone truly wasn't lying about not stealing the playbook after all! Also, a little behind the scenes side note: How exactly did Angelina lose that earring? And how exactly did Oliver's playbook end up under the lockers? Well, Angelina and Fred were alone in the locker room one day, perhaps snogging fiercely. There were various items on the bench, and the bench had to be cleared… and I'll leave you to imagine the rest from there. ;) Then when Oliver came in from practising, he went straight to the showers and didn't notice anything amiss because of his moment with Audrey. Thanks for reading!


	30. Only Shooting Stars Break the Mold

"_A number of small scuffles broke out in the corridors, culminating in a nasty incident in which a Gryffindor fourth-year and a Slytherin sixth-year ended up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears." –POA, pg 222_

* * *

**Chapter 30 - Only Shooting Stars Break the Mold  
**

Oliver stared in shock at the book in his hands. Mostly he was ecstatic to have it back in his possession and couldn't believe how utterly foolish he'd been. After losing it, he'd searched the dorm and Gryffindor Tower from top to bottom in every nook and cranny, he'd searched the Library, Study Halls, everywhere. He _had_ searched the locker room and the pitch, but clearly not thoroughly enough. It'd been gathering dust under a row of Gryffindor lockers this entire time.

He also felt incredibly guilty, remembering how he'd accused Audrey of stealing it and giving it to Flint, and going for weeks believing that very fact. If she hadn't been lying about that, what else was she in fact telling the truth about?

He shut his eyes and sighed heavily. He could picture Audrey's eyes sparkling in the echoes of the fireworks on New Year's Eve, he remembered the taste of kissing her. He remembered the yelling and the fighting and the trading of hexes in Snape's classroom. He thought of her standing there in the snow with snowflakes clinging to her eyelashes, he thought of her temper and her jealous streak, her passion and her insecurities. He imagined the moment she was kissing Flint and how badly that had broken his heart, how stupid he'd felt. Was he being stupid again for even reconsidering how he felt about her?

Oliver opened his eyes and shoved his book into his bag with his scarlet robes. As he made his way across the grounds moments later, coming to the pitch from the castle was Cedric Diggory, broom slung over his shoulder.

They greeted each other and made small talk but after a particularly calculating look, Cedric asked, "You alright?"

Oliver sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, causing it stick up funny. "Remember a while back I told you about those two girls I was having a dilemma with?"

"Of course, why?"

With another sigh, Oliver hastily summarized as best he could what had gone on since then. Dating Denise, ending his friendship with Audrey because of what he'd seen and suspected about her, the recent conversation with Audrey, and his break-up with Denise. He finished with finding his playbook and how he was now feeling incredibly conflicted.

Cedric let out a low whistle when his friend had finished.

"Tell me what to do," Oliver pleaded.

The Hufflepuff chuckled. "We've been through this once before, mate. I can't tell you what to do." When Oliver opened his mouth to protest, Cedric held up his hand and continued. "Look, when we talked before, you were falling for Audrey. You liked Denise well enough, but Audrey was stealing your heart. She broke it, to be fair, but she has since more or less explained that what you saw wasn't what it seemed, right?"

Oliver nodded slowly.

"I'm not excusing what she did or the way she chose to handle things, even the way she's choosing to handle things now. But the point is mate, that we all make mistakes." Cedric shrugged. "She's not perfect - neither are you or I. The way you two both tend to resolutely stick to one side of things is part of why you clash. Things are not all black and white – hardly anything is. You both need to cut each other some slack and I think, grant a little forgiveness."

Oliver swallowed as he listened, letting his friend's words sink in.

"And, I'm going to give the same piece of advice I gave you last time: listen to your _heart_, mate." He gave Oliver's shoulder an encouraging pat before heading on his way to the pitch.

* * *

As the week leading up to the match against Slytherin progressed, the rivalry between the two houses was at an all-time high - or low, perhaps, was more correct. Even Oliver who had been through years of matches and upcoming finals felt like he had never seen more of a vicious rivalry brewing. There were plenty of insults and barbs traded between any number of students daily, as well as a few fist fights or unpleasant magic exchanges resulting in detentions, loss of House points or even temporary hospitalization.

One afternoon, a handful of Gryffindors and Slytherins began by taunting one another in the hallway and the situation quickly escalated. Oliver and Lee were on their way to Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures respectively when they happened upon the scene. Oliver immediately recognized Audrey's blonde friend as the main Slytherin aggressor and rolled his eyes.

"Oh brilliant," he mumbled.

There was a fourth-year boy in the front of the Gryffindor crowd doing his best to insult the blonde Danielle, while she shot back with snarky comebacks that only made the boy's face redder.

"This is going from bad to worse," said Lee nervously on Oliver's right. "Should do something?"

"Call a professor?" suggested Oliver, not liking the idea of getting in between the two groups. Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, however, he realized unless one came in the next few seconds, it would be too late to prevent anything.

Danielle threw out a particularly crude taunt and the fourth-year drew his wand. Oliver dropped his book bag and hurried forward, stepping in front of the boy. Lee followed just as quickly.

"Stop! It's not worth it – it's not worth the punishment you're getting to get from Professor McGonagall if you hex her," he tried.

"Let me at her," said the boy hotly. "She can't say things like that about us and our house and get away with it."

The angry faces of the other Gryffindors made it clear they absolutely agreed.

"You don't have to get out of the way, Woody," Danielle called behind Oliver and he turned. "I wouldn't mind giving you a good hex too."

"You'd have to hex me first," Audrey piped up, pushing through the gathered Slytherins to join Lee and Oliver in the middle, blocking Danielle and the boy from hitting each other.

Oliver's heart did an odd flip flop as she flashed him a little smile before turning her back to him and trying to talk Danielle down. He had the briefest thought about how utterly silly the situation was and how silly it was that he had opted to put himself directly in the middle of it.

Inevitably, though he and Audrey tried valiantly to talk both groups' leaders down from hexing one another in order to avoid loss of house points or injury, they were not convincing enough. Within seconds of stepping into the middle, more insults were shouted from various students over Oliver's shoulder, tempers flared, the groups converged closer and more wands came out. All at once, spells were being fired and Lee hit the deck covering his head with his hands, followed closely by Oliver who grabbed Audrey's hand and pulled her out of harm's way.

"What is going on here!" Professor Sinstra, the Astronomy professor, came storming into the tangle of students, helping Oliver, Lee and Audrey to their feet as they separated the melee. She was dark-skinned and quite tall, practically towering over most of the gathered students and creating a most intimidating presence. "This is the third fight I've broken up today alone!"

Two students had minor nosebleeds and most others seemed no worse for the wear. The fourth-year boy Oliver had been trying to prevent from cursing anyone, however, had leeks popping out of his ears as did Danielle, much to Oliver's amusement.

"Ten points from both houses for misuse of magic!" Sinstra bellowed. She swiftly took down names of the students involved and chose a few students to escort those with leeks to the Hospital Wing at once.

Sinstra thanked Oliver, Lee and Audrey for their initial attempts to stop the fight. She'd been hurrying down the corridor to the knot of angry students and had seen the trio standing in the middle trying to prevent the fight from breaking out.

"If more students would rise about this rivalry nonsense, things like this wouldn't happen," she huffed and strode away moments after ensuring they were alright.

Lee cursed that he was late for Care of Magical Creatures and tore off at break-neck speed.

Oliver wanted time to be able to speak to Audrey about the way she'd just chosen to stand with him instead of her blonde friend, but he was late for his class too. He flashed her a smile and said a hasty goodbye before dashing off after Lee.

* * *

"What the bloody hell was that?"

"Hmm?" Audrey looked up from her thumb ring which she'd been idly twirling in her hands.

Danielle, freshly de-leeked and just waiting in the Hospital Wing for another hour for observation, repeated her question just as fiercely.

"I'm not sure what – "

"In the corridor earlier, when you stepped into the middle with those sodding Gryffindor pigs." Her blonde friend crossed her arms over her chest. "I thought you were over this little rebellious phase of yours."

Audrey sighed. She was desperately tired of this – fighting with someone based on who she associated with. If it wasn't Oliver, it was Danielle or Nicole, her parents, or any number of other people. After so many years of practically being the poster child for anti-Gryffindor sentiments, she almost couldn't blame them. After a year of having an unexpected change of heart, however, she had quite had enough of it all.

"Maybe I like those Gryffindor pigs," she finally answered and met Danielle's shocked gaze. "And maybe you should try showing the other Houses a little respect. Slytherin House isn't some slice of perfection and superiority. We're just as good or bad as the rest of them."

Danielle's mouth hung open for a second before she said, "Do you even _hear_ yourself? You, of all people, are actually suggesting we – Audrey, what has _happened_ to you!"

"It's called being a human, Danielle. You should try it some time." She stood to leave.

"Stop – stop right now. Nicole told me you'd changed but I wasn't going to believe – bloody hell, even Marcus said you'd turned coat on us. They were right!" Danielle shook her head in disbelief. "Think about what you're doing – what you're saying!"

"For the first time, I really am," said Audrey.

It almost seemed rash, after so long of working to be the perfect little Slytherin girl, to finally stop the charade. It wasn't about to be easy, and it wasn't something she was doing on a whim. It'd been something she'd wanted to do for years – to break out from under her parents' shadow and expectations, to be her real self. Faking it and hiding how she felt was ingrained in how she was and it was going to take considerable effort to reverse that.

A year ago the idea would have been insane, impossible, unthinkable. Something she wanted to do, sure, but something she couldn't truly consider attempting – not until she was long gone. Now the idea seemed liberating.

"Your parents!" Danielle said shrilly. "If you keep going the way you're going, they'll disown you – you _know_ they will! What about Kerrick? What about – what about _me?_ Are you really going to throw away all we've been through? For what? Some fling with that Gryffindor – "

"Don't," Audrey warned dangerously. "Stop insulting him like he's _so_ beneath you. Stop insulting all of them - stop acting like I'm choosing to become some disgusting creature you can never associate with again. And stop threatening me with talk of my parents!"

They were going to be furious, she knew. She'd probably receive some intense letters – perhaps even a Howler. Last time it had brought her to tears and caused her to break Oliver's heart. It was going to be awful, but she was going to tread carefully until she'd come of age. As for whether she and Oliver would ever reconcile, it was irrelevant to this issue: it was time to be her own person, to live out the last year and a bit at Hogwarts as someone she _wanted _to be rather than someone she was _expected_ to be.

She'd deal with the fall out as it came. She was done being trod on, being fake, being someone she didn't like. She was done hiding behind a mask.

"Aud, you're not getting it – "

"No, _you're_ not getting it!" Audrey shot back heatedly. "I'm done trying to please everyone, I'm done being the perfect model of the little Slytherin Queen. I'll work it out with my parents" – Danielle snorted in derision but Audrey ignored her – "and when I turn seventeen in the fall, I'll come of age, and that'll be that. And for Merlin's _sake_, I'm not _throwing_ away our friendship and all we've been through."

Danielle opened her mouth to say more but Audrey held her hand up to stop her and continued, though more gently than before.

"I'm still your friend, I'm still going to _be_ your friend. I'm just… I just feel different, is all." She looked at her friend pleadingly. "And I'm going to need a friend or two if I'm going to get through the next year. Especially after my parents realize I'm not bending over backwards to please them anymore." She smiled a small, wry little smile.

Her blonde friend's features softened slightly but then she turned away. "I'm not going to be a part of this," she snapped. "If you want to trash everything you've worked for, that's fine, but you're not bringing me down with you. So you might as well sod off."

"Danielle – "

She returned her steely glare to Audrey. "Unless you have another miraculous change of heart and go back to the way you were, we're done."

Audrey had no reply and simply turned and left the Hospital Wing.

* * *

By the end of the day, the atmosphere hadn't improved and Oliver learned that various Slytherins had been trying to trip up or harm his Seeker, Harry, in some way all day. Angered by their persistence and underhanded tactics, he immediately appealed to the entire Gryffindor House to protect his team. From that point on, they couldn't go anywhere, Harry in particular, without a mass of students as an escort.

Oliver even mentioned the situation to Roger in irritation during class one morning and he was just as appalled. He promptly passed word around and suddenly Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were coming to Gryffindor's aid as well.

He was both grateful for the support and annoyed that being late that week became a habit for everyone as a group of thirty moved a lot slower than one. Which was why, though he felt more nervous about an upcoming match than he ever had in his whole life, he was so thankful when Saturday came. After an evening of feeling like he was going to explode from nerves and tension, he ordered his team to bed early for a good night's sleep.

That was all good in theory, except if they slept anything like Oliver did, then they tossed and turned restlessly imagining worse case scenarios, dozing fitfully and waking up in a cold sweat after nightmares of Flint holding the Cup.

* * *

**A/n:** I hope it's clear that Audrey isn't changing_ just_ because she fell in love with Oliver, and she's not planning on just suddenly showing her true colors and being anti-Slytherin or something. She's just _finally_ realized that faking everything all the time brought her absolutely no happiness and made her feel empty. The time she was with Oliver, being herself, was when she felt genuine and happy. Stubborn and set in her ways as she is, it took her actions with Flint and Oliver's resulting heartbreak for her to finally get it. She is still afraid of her parents like she was so many chapters ago, but she's finally prepared to deal with the hardship that might come as a result of not being "perfect" if that makes sense. Anyways, point being, Oliver was the catalyst for her to start changing, not the _only_ reason.


	31. Win, Lose or Draw

**A/n: **The Quidditch Final in POA is about three pages long of describing the various penalties, coupled with Lee's commentary and not much else. I'm using some creative license to expand it. :) It's a long one, folks.

* * *

**Chapter 31 - Win, Lose or Draw  
**

Oliver was awake absurdly early the following morning, full of nerves. This was it – his last year at Hogwarts, his last Quidditch game as Gryffindor Captain, his very last chance to hold that Cup. He didn't know if he could possibly feel more pressure on himself. He got dressed with shaking hands and went down to the Common Room. He tried in vain to distract himself until it was near enough to breakfast that the others came down to join him.

"It'll be alright, Oliver," Alicia assured him. "We have a great team and we've trained really hard this year. We'll do alright."

Oliver felt like if he opened his mouth he might throw up, so he opted to simply nod.

_Last chance, last chance…_ he couldn't stop it from repeating in his mind. He felt nearly paralyzed with the fear of failure and he walked around stiff and numb. The rest of the team joined him in the Common Room, most looking incredibly nervous as well. Though Alicia had earlier been more optimistic and calm, the tension oozing from her team members was contagious and she soon was tight-lipped and pale as well.

They headed down to breakfast as a unit, speaking very little if at all. Upon entering the Great Hall, Oliver was blown away by the reception they got: three out of four of the Houses applauded thunderously. The Slytherins, naturally, did not share in this warm welcome, but he barely noticed. He felt his spirits lift and he grinned all the way to his seat.

His stomach was too tight to manage eating any food himself, though he badgered his team to force some breakfast down.

"You have to eat too, Oliver," said Katie, elbowing him gently.

"Can't," he mumbled. "I think if I do it's not going to stay down."

Harry, across from Oliver, grunted. "I know how you feel."

"At least have some juice or something," Angelina coaxed. "You've got to have _something_."

Oliver shook his head and then proceeded to persuade George to eat some bacon and Harry to swallow some toast. He came close to putting a glass of orange juice to his lips but his hands were trembling so much he was afraid of spilling, so he set it back down and didn't bother again.

He had his team leave breakfast early (everyone clapped all over again when they got up from their table) and they headed down to the pitch. Oliver paced the grassy field, heart pounding in his chest.

"Conditions are good," he said. "Not too cold, there's no wind…" He rubbed his face with his hand, desperately trying to distract himself. _Last chance, last chance… cannot fail, cannot fail…_

"It's as good as we could've asked for," said Fred. His twin nodded in agreement.

"If we… look, if we don't…" Oliver clenched his jaw, hardly daring to consider the possibility. His mind could only take him so many steps ahead without making him feel panic and winning felt as unfathomable as losing at that moment.

"We will," said Katie confidently. She patted his back encouragingly.

Shortly they headed to the change rooms and got ready in uneasy silence. Once dressed, Oliver took a moment to stand in front of the mirror. He usually had some serious pre-game nerves, but what he was feeling at that moment was his usual pre-game nerves times about one thousand and twelve.

Quidditch was his ultimate passion and he had worked _so bloody hard_ for so long to win. He _needed_ this win, needed it to prove to himself he was good enough to go pro. Needed to know he hadn't spent five of his seven years at Hogwarts training for nothing, hadn't spent countless hours in any and every kind of weather beating himself up with Bludgers for nothing.

He shut his eyes and took a deep, centering breath.

* * *

When his team exited the change rooms to walk across the pitch, the noise was deafening. It seemed seventy-five percent or so of the school was cheering for Gryffindor and they effectively drowned out the boos of those cheering for Slytherin. Oliver approached the center where Madame Hooch was waiting and Flint came from the opposite side to join them.

"Shake hands, Captains," Madame Hooch instructed.

He grit his teeth and grasped Flint's hand.

"Haven't humiliated yourself enough these past few months, Woody?" Flint said snidely, squeezing the other Captain's hand hard.

The Gryffindor Keeper returned the pressure fiercely. "Bring it on."

His rival winced and pretend he hadn't as he added, "You won't be so cocky when I'm the holding the Cup and you're crying in the locker room."

Oliver's hand was protesting in pain but he squeezed harder and replied, "When _I'm_ holding the Cup and _you're_ crying in the locker room, I _will_ be that cocky."

Flint sneered and yanked his hand away, just as Madame Hooch made a movement to separate them. Oliver held his angry gaze as they backed away and mounted their brooms. Seconds later, she was blowing her whistle and they were off.

Anger and nerves stayed on the ground as Oliver took up his spot at the posts. He felt energized, high on adrenaline and more focused and clear-headed than ever. _This was it._

The match turned out to be the hardest and dirtiest of Oliver's life, and he had played in a lot of underhanded games. Penalties were called left and right as the players got more and more physical. Though Gryffindor took an early lead when Angelina landed a beautifully executed goal, Slytherin only became more determined and more foul play ensued from either side.

Flint tried to knock Angelina off her broom after her first goal, and then his nose was broken when Fred rather viciously clubbed him. Though he didn't condone retaliation, he couldn't help but feel pleased at the sight of Flint's bloody face. Alicia won points for Gryffindor when she took the penalty for Gryffindor and Oliver punched his fist into the air triumphantly. Flint came forward to do the penalty for Slytherin and Gryffindor's Keeper got ready to stop the Quaffle.

Flint sped down the pitch, blood flowing down his front, Quaffle tight in his right hand. Oliver watched for any miniscule movement, anything that would tell him which way Flint was planning to go. At the last second, Flint zipped left while doing a complicated move (a Darwing Pass combined with what looked like a Pollifer Underhand, he guessed). Oliver gunned his broom to the right and twisted his body sideways, clutching the broom with just his knees as his arms shot out to intercept the Quaffle. It was a move that was much harder than it looked, one which Oliver had always had trouble with in the past and had been working hard to perfect. It worked this time and the Quaffle landed with a satisfying slap in his hand and he held it tight, skilfully reseating himself on his broom.

Lee was commentating and shouted excitedly, "He's done it! He saved it! Well done, _Wood!_"

Oliver allowed himself a grin as the crowd roared and Flint looked furious.

Play resumed and the Gryffindor Captain made several easy saves before the Quaffle remained in Slytherin's end for a couple plays. While keeping his eye mostly on the action with Quaffle, he glanced around the pitch searching for the Seekers. Slytherin's Seeker, Draco Malfoy, was up above circling the pitch with Harry, both keeping their eyes peeled for the Snitch and not letting the other out of their sight.

Oliver returned his attention to the action when two Slytherin Chasers came barrelling down the pitch. George smashed a Bludger at the lead Chaser and when he swerved to dodge, Alicia scooped the Quaffle skilfully, gaining back possession for Gryffindor.

It wasn't long before more penalties were doled out for physical contact and illegal manoeuvres. Katie won for Gryffindor and Harry avoided injury by outsmarting Slytherin's Beaters when they attempted to double team him. Possession of the ball bounced between the teams and then Flint had it again, racing towards Gryffindor's goal posts with a couple fellow Chasers.

Oliver readied himself to go head to head with his rival again. He swooped behind one of his Chasers and Oliver couldn't see what he was doing. Then Flint dipped down and made a move that showed he was going for the center goal. Oliver darted for the interception just as Flint swiftly changed tactics and swung the Quaffle in a wide arc to the right hand goal. Though Oliver reacted instantly at his rival's first change, the precious second he'd used in moving to the center goal was one too many and the Quaffle sailed through the right hoop just out of his reach. Flint's bloodied lips curled smugly and he gestured rudely at Oliver before speeding back down the pitch. Oliver swore loudly and shook the sweat from his eyes.

He knew he should've reacted faster to the fake out and was determined not to let it happen again. He managed a difficult save when one of Slytherin's Chasers, Warrington, executed a smart Handratti Manoeuvre and then a few moments later, he narrowly saved the Quaffle when Warrington and Flint worked together on a series of speedy and complicated passes.

The game progressed and more penalties ensued. Oliver made an excellent and difficult save, as well as scores of more minor ones. The Quaffle was tossed between players and intercepted at unreal speeds, and the injuries racked up. Twice Oliver caught sight of the Seekers making plays for the Snitch, but they were always stopped by each other or another player. Right after Katie brought the score to fifty-ten for Gryffindor, it was Oliver's turn to join the list of players playing with injuries.

Slytherin's Beaters raced towards him and clubbed both Bludgers at him. He swerved to avoid them, but not fast enough and they smashed into his chest and stomach. He saw stars and the wind was knocked right out of him, yet somehow he managed to hold onto his broom. Gasping for air, he heard Madame Hooch screaming at the other team and knew another penalty was coming.

"Mate, you alright?" Fred flew in close, his features etched with worry.

Coughing and sputtering as he attempted to recover his breath, after a distressing several seconds, he nodded.

"Blasted, dirty, son of a…" Oliver didn't hear the rest as his friend sped away, his knuckles turning white on his Beater's bat.

Angelina won the penalty awarded for the foul on Oliver, and the score was brought to sixty to ten for Gryffindor. Play resumed and Oliver tried to ignore the aching pain as a result of the dirty Bludger hits. The Quaffle exchanged more hands. Gryffindor's Keeper and Captain watched his team perform well despite the continued fouls. They gave as good as they got in some instances and more than once Oliver hollered at them to pull back to avoid further penalties. He didn't want his team stooping to Slytherin's level.

Madame Hooch called a time out at one time to give both Captains an enraged speech of playing fair. Flint took the time to clean his face with a towel while glaring at Oliver. Both Captains were given a few moments to pass on the highlights of Hooch's speech to their team.

"I know they're playing downright filthy, but we can_not _be the same," instructed Oliver, slapping his broom with his fist. "The cleaner we play, the more we piss them off – most of our score is made from winning penalty shots because Hooch called them on their garbage. Do not retaliate."

The twins grumbled and Angelina protested them but Oliver overrode them. To Harry, he said passionately, "We're more than fifty up. Get it now and it's ours."

Harry nodded.

Time out complete, the players returned to their positions and Madame Hooch's whistle a few moments later re-started play. For a couple moments it seemed her talk had done the trick: both teams played cleaner, if just as hard, and there were several chances for both teams to score though the Keepers kept the Quaffles out effectively. It didn't last too much longer, however, and the hits started coming again.

And then everyone's attention was caught by the two Seekers as they sped skyward. When Malfoy leapt off his broom to latch onto Harry's and prevent him from reaching the Snitch, the outcry was phenomenal. Lee was cursing openly into the microphone and Gryffindor supporters were on their feet shouting in frustration. Madame Hooch looked apoplectic and Oliver himself used some very choice words to describe his opinion of the foul play.

The anger from all the dirty moves from the opposing team was peaking. Oliver saw quickly that his team was losing focus, as Alicia botched the penalty that was awarded to Gryffindor, and then he himself missed a relatively easy save when a Slytherin Chaser came flying up from below. His pep talk about playing clean and calm hadn't done much of anything, even to himself. He found it increasingly difficult to continue playing fair when the same courtesy wasn't reciprocated and he internally cheered when the twins executed a version of the Prowse Play that was borderline illegal. Madame Hooch either didn't see the move or chose not to call it, but either way the boos from the Slytherin supporters went up at once.

Gryffindor managed a couple more attempts at a goal, as did Slytherin, before Angelina gained possession. She was on her way to the goal when the entire Slytherin team descended on her to block her way. Oliver shouted for Fred and George to clear her way, but Harry was already doing just that. He shot through the melee breaking them apart and allowing Angelina the open window she needed to land a goal.

Oliver brought his concentration to the group of Chasers in front of him mere seconds later, who had retrieved the Quaffle incredibly fast and were coming straight at him in a block. He wiped the sweat sliding into his eyes and relaxed his shoulders, ready to move. He narrowed his focus on Flint in the middle and tried to ignore the movement down and to the far right. It looked like the Seekers were racing for the Snitch…

Flint was falling back just a tiny bit and Oliver was anticipating his next move when the crowd went completely berserk and he couldn't help himself. He glanced to where he'd last seen the Seekers, and then his heart stopped: _Harry had the Snitch._

Flint turned too, and his face fell instantly. He looked irate and the rest of the Chasers with him started cursing. Oliver meanwhile, was overwhelmed with emotion and could hardly believe it had really happened. _Harry had the Snitch… last chance, last chance… we've won…_

The time, the hours, the bruises, the wind, the rain, the snow, the sweat – it all flashed past him. All the work, all the training, all the practises... It had all come to this and _they'd done it._

He didn't even realize tears were streaming down his face as he joined his team in the air, and they were shouting and crying and there was the Snitch, and the noise, oh the noise…

Then they were on the ground and people were slapping his back and shouting praise and he was worried that any moment he might wake up and find they hadn't even played yet. Someone was kissing his cheek, or rubbing his hair, and then he was being lifted into the air on shoulders and still there were tears on his cheeks. He didn't feel the pain from the nasty Bludger hit, didn't notice he was near slick with sweat.

The Gryffindor team stood before Professor Dumbledore, euphoric. The crowd was still cheering so loud it was almost impossible to hear Dumbledore's words over the din. There was something about "champions" and "deserving" and "after more than six years". Then the beautiful, shining Quidditch Cup was passed to Oliver, the Captain, and he was even more overcome than he had been before. The team stood together for pictures, they passed the Cup between them, they kissed it, they stroked it, they hugged each other tight and still Oliver could not believe it was all real.

_We did it_.

* * *

They headed back to the castle in a mass of joyous supporters, House mates and friends. Oliver's face was hurting from smiling so much and still he couldn't have stopped even if he wanted to. At the castle door as the crowd slowed to funnel up the steps, Oliver felt someone gently elbow him and he looked down to see Audrey.

"Hey," she smiled. "Great game."

Maybe it was the victory high he was on at that moment or the fact that he hadn't seen her in a while; perhaps it was because he was no longer with Denise or that he no longer felt like his emotions were a swirling tangle of confusion. Maybe it was the sight of the charm bracelet he'd given her for Christmas on her slender wrist or the way she was smiling at him. Whatever it was, he was filled with courage and resolve, and he wasted no time with preamble. He grabbed her hand and pulled her aside, out of the main throng of students.

"Look, I know this is probably not a good time, and I know we're not going to see much of each other after this because of exams, but I just need to say a few things," he said in a rush. Already some of his friends and teammates were hollering for Oliver to hurry up (they had a party to get to!) and he continued just as hastily, "I'm sorry I didn't trust you and I doubted you – I'm sorry I assumed you'd stolen my playbook and manipulated me. You're right, I don't know what you're about and what you've been through. And I know we fight and we seem to get ourselves into trouble wherever we go."

He paused for a breath and her eyes were shining hopefully. "But I want that chance – I want the chance to know everything about you. I don't like not being with you. I miss being around you and having you as my friend, opposite as we are. I _want_ the trouble."

"Oliver, let's go mate!" Lee shouted.

"Just a minute!" He called back and turned back to Audrey. "What I'm saying is that I care about you, and that's not going to stop any time soon. If you still care about me, if you still are at all interested in friendship and more with me, then let's give this a go. And we'll deal with all the hard stuff – the friends and the parents and whatever else – as it comes. If what you really want is to stay with your Slytherin pals and forget you and I ever happened, then I'll deal with that and we'll move on."

He couldn't tell what she was thinking and wished she would say something, though he didn't have the time to hear her reply. Alicia was at his side tugging his sleeve.

"Oliver, _let's go_, everybody's going to the Common Room and they need the winning team!"

"I'm right behind you!" he said and shook her off. To Audrey, he said earnestly, "Thank you for standing with me yesterday." He kissed her quick on the lips. "I'll see you soon." And he hurried after his insistent friends.

"You can count on it!" She called after him belatedly, though with all the noise, she wasn't sure he heard her.

* * *

The celebration went all night and McGonagall didn't come to stop them this time. She'd given them a warning in the hallway as they made their way uproariously to the Common Room, but she'd been smiling when she'd said it. Oliver was pretty sure she'd only warned them not to be up all night out of teacher-ly obligation and nothing more. He would even wager she was celebrating pretty heavily too, wherever she was.

Oliver ate tons of food (he could never get a straight answer as to where it had all come from) and it seemed Fred and George had smuggled in something stronger than Butterbeer for the older crowd to enjoy (he couldn't get a straight answer as to where _that_ had come from either).

The night was a loud, busy, joyful blur. He found out – along with most everyone else in the Common Room – that the person George had been secretly seeing all year had been Katie. Apparently George had finally told Fred, and Katie explained the reason why they kept it secret was they wanted to wait until they were sure they were something serious before they "stepped out" at Hogwarts.

Sometime later, Oliver remembered Katie revealing a certain secret to Angelina and he had been blustering and embarrassed, begging her not tell anyone, especially George. Angelina thought it wasn't terribly surprising or secret, and certainly old news since it was an event that had happened quite some time ago. Still, she'd seemed to forget by the time Fred and George came to join them and Oliver was very thankful.

He finally crashed onto his bed, still in his Quidditch robes, only when the sun was streaking through the windows.

* * *

**A/n:** The end is nigh! NEWTs, the end of the year… And yes, if you caught it, I did give a nod to _How I Met Your Mother_ in there somewhere. Thanks for reading!


	32. NEWTs

**A/n:** Two quick things: _The Bouncing Ferret _is not mine, it belongs to the wonderful Teen Typist. It's just the most hilarious pub name, I couldn't not use it, even if it doesn't align with Typist's canon (her HP stories are the bomb, btw, check them out!). And lastly: I couldn't find who won the Quidditch final in Oliver's fifth year (Harry's first) so I went my own way on that.

* * *

**Chapter 32 - NEWTs  
**

The following day was a Sunday, thankfully, and Oliver slept until lunchtime. When he finally rose, the twins were still snoring loudly and George had somehow ended up on the floor in a tangle of laundry and sheets. Oliver changed out of his dirty Quidditch robes, had a shower and headed down to lunch where he sat down beside Lee and Alicia.

"So, you and Katie?" Lee said at once, smirking.

Oliver groaned and put his head on the table. He'd been desperately hoping no one else had overheard Katie tell Angelina or that she would have kept that piece of information to herself, but no such luck.

Alicia laughed. "It's not a big deal, Oliver."

"Who told you?" he grumbled, forehead still pressed to wood.

"Angie," she answered.

"She did, but now we need the whole story," Lee slapped his friend's back. "Come on, let's have it."

With a deep sigh, Oliver sat up. "Okay, I'm only saying it once. And I can't believe she told Angelina - this was something we were going to never speak about again. _Ever._"

"Who cares? Get _on_ with it!" Lee urged.

Reluctantly Oliver began, "It was fifth year, after the Quidditch final, when Ravenclaw won against Slytherin. We had that big party in the Common Room and…" he shifted uncomfortably, the memories coming back to him clearly as he spoke. "Look, we'd had a lot to drink. She got a hold of some – alright, a _lot_ of Firewhiskey and we sort of… went wild with it."

Alicia was giggling behind her hand. "I already have trouble with the image of _you_ being completely sloshed. Aside from that one time at The Bouncing Ferret, I've never seen you plastered."

"Yes, well, this was _worse_ than that time at The Ferret," Oliver admitted and Lee whistled. "Anyways, we were sitting there in the corner moaning about being single and not having had a good snog in ages. Then she passed me the Firewhiskey and said I was good-looking enough and weren't we good friends and so on."

Lee was grinning now and Oliver cleared his throat uneasily.

"So, er… one thing lead to another, and then I was telling her I liked how she passed the Quaffle of all things, and then we snuck out of the Common Room to an alcove down the corridor and started… snogging. It probably would have gone farther if I had hadn't knocked over a suit of armour. Peeves showed up about then, screaming about students out of bed – it was about two in the morning by that point – and we stumbled our way back to Gryffindor."

Alicia stared incredulously. "Wow, Angie said you hooked up, I didn't realize…"

"Yes, well, I'm not going to go into details with you lot, but it wasn't good, alright? We were lonely and smashed." Oliver winced. "We felt horrible the next day – using each other and how awkward it was. We swore to never mention it again, it was so terribly embarrassing."

Lee was laughing loudly trying to imagine his two friends getting together so unsuccessfully. When the twins arrived at the table and Alicia immediately started recounting the story to them, Oliver felt immensely more uncomfortable. He wasn't sure how George was going to react, seeing as he was now quite serious with Katie. It turned out George already knew, however, and by extension Fred, and had known for quite some time.

The rest of the morning was spent relentlessly teasing Oliver, then Katie when she finally emerged. Eventually Oliver felt less uneasy about the mistake between him and Katie and found it as silly as the others did. It had been so long ago and he and Katie had long since overcome the awkwardness between then that had occurred post-drunken snog session.

The afternoon was spent outside in the sunshine, relaxing and joking and doing nothing of importance at all. He still felt incredibly high in the sky after winning the Cup – couldn't believe he hadn't dreamed it – and felt like nothing could take the grin off his face.

* * *

Except exams. That was surprisingly effective at wiping his Quidditch Cup grin off his face in a hurry.

Just as the fifth year's OWLs were coming up, so were Oliver's NEWTs, the exams given to seventh years. If he passed them all, he would be a fully qualified wizard. He wanted to do better than passing of course: he was aiming to get as many E's and O's as possible, and hopefully scrape an A or even a P in Potions.

The next couple weeks were spent mostly in the Common Room or Library with scores of other students, studying feverishly. Everyone seemed nervous and edgy the closer exams became and Oliver wished he had upcoming Quidditch matches to distract him. He still tried to visit the pitch occasionally to help clear his mind and stay in shape, but the more he studied, the more he realized he still needed to study and the less he went to the pitch.

He spent an entire Saturday in one of the Study Halls with Katie, Denise, the twins and Lee. He and Lee worked on Potions almost exclusively, quizzing each other non-stop and writing out notes and formulas. They were determined not to fail, especially Lee who loathed the idea of having to take remedial Potions a second time in his seventh year if he didn't do well enough.

"You don't even need Potions," said Denise later that evening as they were packing up. "Why are so worried about it?"

"I need the best marks I can get," he replied. "The better my marks, the more it will show that I'm committed, a hard worker. It will make me look good to potential coaches. Not only that, but if doing Quidditch professionally doesn't work out, I'll have plenty of options."

"Sodding perfectionist," Katie said under her breath teasingly.

"How many times do we have to tell you, mate," said Fred. "You're brilliant – you _will_ be pro. Stop stressing."

"And don't worry," added George. "If all else fails, you can work at the joke shop me and Fred are going to open one day."

* * *

"That was…"

"_Brutal._"

"Impossible."

"Downright pure evil."

After nearly a full week of exams, they all felt spent. The sixth years had had to endure their History of Magic and Charms exams that day while the seventh years struggled through their Care of Magical Creatures and Defense Against the Dark Arts examinations. Lee, Alicia and Katie took turns groaning and Oliver felt about as well as they looked. He felt he'd done alright in both of his exams of the day, even his Defense Against the Dark Arts practical exam had gone alright though he'd mixed up a couple of things. Tomorrow, however, held the two exams he was most dreading and cursed the schedulers for putting them on the same day: Transfiguration in the morning and Potions in the afternoon.

"I completely blew every question on the multiple choice bit," Alicia moaned, rubbing her forehead. "I couldn't keep any of the bloody names straight! I'm sure to get a T."

Lee dropped his head to the table with a thud. "At least you did the Revulsion Jinx alright. I didn't annunciate it enough and ending up setting the examiner's robes on fire."

Oliver chuckled sympathetically. "Cheer up, mate."

The twins arrived and slumped down onto the bench beside Oliver and Katie respectively.

"Well?" asked Oliver.

"As long as I manage at least _one _OWL, I'll be pleased." George grumbled.

"I certainly won't be getting one in Herbology," Fred laughed.

The group of friends shared stories about their various exams of the day and then retreated to various areas of the castle for more studying following supper. Oliver found one of the Study Halls had an empty table, so he settled there and broke out his Potions notes and books. He was worried about doing well in Transfiguration, but was confident he could manage an A or better. Potions, his long-time enemy, however, was a different story.

He was busy scribbling away with his quill when someone cleared their throat softly to his right and sat down.

"Hey," Audrey greeted shyly.

Oliver straightened and he smiled widely, his heart skipping a beat. "Hey yourself. How've your exams been going?"

She exhaled in a burst of air. "Let's just say that I hate this time of year and I can't wait for it to be over."

"That bad?"

"I probably did better than I thought I did – at least I hope so. Last year I was sure I had only scraped by, but I managed a string of E's and even an O. Got a solid D in Potions of course, but other than that." She sighed and opened her own set of Potions books and notes. "I have it tomorrow morning with the sixth years. You?"

"Afternoon."

They fell silent and Oliver wanted to ask her if she'd thought about what he'd said to her the day of the Quidditch Final. The fact that she had chosen to sit with him in plain sight of some Slytherins he'd previously seen her with, however, was almost answer enough.

She caught him staring and asked with a small smile, "What?"

He glanced at the Slytherins across the room and back at her, returning her smile. "Nothing."

They proceeded to work together and help one another study until bedtime, where they bid each other good luck and good night, promising to meet up on Saturday for the last Hogsmeade trip of the year.

* * *

The next day, Oliver entered the Transfiguration classroom full of trepidation. He nervously made his way through the multiple choice portion, doing his best not to second guess himself and felt in the end he'd managed alright. He was more worried about the practical part of the examination, remembering Lee's story of botching his Charms spell the previous day. The spells he was given however, were ones he felt confident in performing and he left the examination room smiling. He'd passed with flying colors, there was no doubt.

After a quick lunch, he made sure to be outside the dungeons early, and began sifting through his notes for some last minute studying.

"Have fun failing, Woody," Flint sneered on his way by to his own exam elsewhere.

Oliver didn't lift his head as he retorted smoothly, "Sorry Marcus, didn't catch that. Couldn't hear you over the gleam of the Quidditch Cup that Gryffindor won."

It wasn't a good comeback of course, but Oliver had found that by simply inserting _Quidditch Cup_ and _Gryffindor_ into the same sentence, the best Flint could do was grunt angrily and stalk away – which is exactly what he did. Oliver briefly wondered how long it would last before he would have to come up with proper comebacks to Flint's irritating barbs. In the meantime, he smirked and returned his concentration to his notes.

Once it was time for the exam, a cold coil of dread seemed to form in Oliver's stomach. He felt like bursting with nerves. He tried to remind himself that doing well in Potions – even passing it – would not make or break his career. With a small smile, he remembered Katie's words to him the previous day: _Sodding perfectionist._

He attempted to concentrate on the notes and formulas he'd been pouring over for weeks and forced himself to calm down.

_There is no reason to freak out_, he thought as he settled himself at one of the desks in front of a cauldron.

The examiner flipped over the chalkboard with the list of Potions to complete and with a click of the gold stop-watch in his hand, told them they had three and a half hours.

_Okay, _now_ there's a reason to freak out_.

Before the nerves and panic of being in an exam could paralyze him, before his mind had the chance to cripple him with doubt about his knowledge, Oliver shut his eyes and inhaled deeply. He imagined he was on the pitch, climbing onto his broomstick. He flew up into the air, circling the pitch, feeling the wind in his hair, the worries of the world melting away and falling to the grass below. He took up his position at the goal post…

He opened his eyes, the feeling of dread completely dissipated. He could do this. He swiftly set to work brewing the list of potions.

* * *

"Well?" Lee asked at once the moment Oliver joined him and the twins in the Common Room.

Oliver sighed as he sat on the couch beside them. "Actually… I think it was alright."

Katie high-fived him happily. "I knew you could do it!"

"I know I got the first one perfect," Oliver nodded. "The second one was definitely too thick and I don`t think it was right color, and the third one… I'm not sure if I overdid it with the dragon scales or not, because it was sure bubbly strangely. So was Percy's mind you, I could see when I handed mine in, so it might not be bad after all."

"Still two out of three isn't too horrible," Lee nodded.

"How did it go with you?"

"Ah, I absolutely blew the first one," Lee laughed. "Literally. I think I managed with the other two well enough to make up for it. Fingers crossed I can scrape a pass with that! I think I'll go absolutely mad if I have to end up taking bloody remedial Potions again."

The group of friends chatted about their day a bit longer before heading down to enjoy supper. They spent the rest of the evening outside with many other students, as the heat of the day cooled to a warm and pleasant summer atmosphere. Oliver lay down on the grass and gazed up at the darkening sky, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Gryffindor had won the Cup, his NEWTs were complete, he'd made it through Potions – and his last year of Hogwarts – alive.

Merlin, did that feel good.

* * *

**A/n:** For the record, I doubt Audrey is "the only" Slytherin ever who has friends in other Houses, so I hope it doesn't come off that way. Based on the books, there is clearly a deep-seated rivalry and _most_ Slytherins are unpleasant. Just in Audrey's circle, she's being looked down upon for it, but there are other Slytherins who don't hold quite the same grudge or attitude. Anyways, thanks for reading! Reviewing is good for the soul. And mine. ;)


	33. Through the Grapevine

**A/n:** If you're just jumping in at this chapter (author alert or whatever), read on. If you started at the beginning, skip the following.

Let me nutshell this as much as possible: I started this _years_ ago. I was young and this was one of my first stories. I grew frustrated with it, the writing (I think) got worse, and then reviews ground to a halt. I have this issue where I absolutely _have_ to finish something once I started it, and I _refuse_ to be one of those authors who abandons a story for all time. So I decided to massively rewrite this story to something I consider palatable.

The bad news is that _so much_ has changed that I'm afraid you'll have to start at the beginning – if you start right here, I guarantee it won't make sense (this being the second last chapter). :P The good news is I believe this is way better than the original, and I have written the conclusion, coming right after this chapter.

I apologize to everyone for the incredible wait! I can't fathom that anyone is still willing to follow me at this point, but if you are, THANK YOU! Thank you _all_ for _every bit_ of support, encouragement, feedback and most importantly patience. 3

* * *

**Chapter 33 - Through the Grapevine  
**

Though Oliver had expected nothing out of the ordinary to occur the next day, quite the opposite proved to be true. When he entered the Great Hall that morning for breakfast, it was buzzing with frantic and excited conversation. He hurried to find a place with his friends.

"What's going on?" he asked at once.

"Everything!" said Katie and proceeded to summarize.

Apparently the night before, Sirius Black had been found and captured on the school grounds. The Minister himself had even shown up, but somehow Black escaped yet again. Not only that, but Professor Snape had surreptitiously informed the Slytherins that the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin, was in fact a werewolf. Professor Lupin had then opted to resign and so yet another Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would be needed for the following year.

"It's true!" Alicia nodded emphatically. "I heard Vicki Glover telling Roger all about it, and then Ewan confirmed it."

"He was _captured_ on the grounds and then _escaped_ before the Minister could get in to see him?" Oliver questioned. "Did anyone actually_ see_ him? Maybe he was never even there."

"Never mind all that Black business – he's been on the grounds a few times before, hasn't he?" said Lee. "What about Professor Lupin!"

"It's a pity," Fred sighed. "I quite liked him."

"I don't see why he can't still teach," George shrugged. "Werewolf or not."

Alicia's eyes bugged out and she was about to protest in earnest to George's words, but he hurried to explain before she was able.

"I mean, there _are _fixes for that, you know, _condition_, out there. It hasn't been a problem all year, has it?"

Oliver nodded in agreement but Alicia was less sure.

"But a _werewolf_? That seems awfully dangerous." She glanced between her friends then added, "Honestly, I'm surprised Dumbledore would allow it, no matter how nice Lupin is."

"Maybe he didn't know?"

"Dumbledore knows everything," Oliver put in with a chuckle. "There's no way he didn't know."

"Or most likely, Snape's a total git and made it up just so he could have a shot at the Defense Against the Dark Arts," Fred suggested. "Everyone knows he wants that job real bad."

Angelina, who'd overslept that morning, came rushing up and flopped down between Fred and George.

"Mildred stopped me on the stairs – she was going on about Sirius Black and a _werewolf_. What is bloody going on?"

As the group hastily filled her in, Oliver couldn't help but smile. He tuned briefly out of his friends' conversation and into others around him, and after only a few minutes, heard vastly different versions of events circulating between students. He, personally, had a hard time believing any of it was true.

Maybe Black had in fact made it onto the grounds again, that he could see. But a professor being a werewolf? Or the Minister coming all the way to Hogwarts _just_ as Black escapes custody? Not that it was out of the realm of possibility, but with the way gossip seemed to multiply and explode at Hogwarts, he couldn't help but wonder what the true version of events was. Months ago, Black standing over Ron Weasley with a knife had become the story of how Black vandalized entire corridors after viciously attacking a dozen students.

As he listened, he heard one person claim that Black had set fire to the Herbology greenhouses, while another swore Black had in fact sprouted wings and that was how he'd been able to fly out of the castle after he was captured.

Percy, down the row on Oliver's right, somehow seemed to be an official authority on what exactly had happened. He was pompously droning on and, immediately uninterested in hearing him ramble for more than a few seconds, Oliver tuned him out with a roll of his eyes. He listened instead to Alicia's much more interesting tale she'd just heard from Patricia Stimpson, who'd heard from a friend of a friend in another House, that a girl named Jenna _swore_ she'd heard howling and screaming late last night, and insisted that Black was in fact the werewolf that everyone was talking about (it had been a full moon, after all).

In any event, the only thing that seemed to be officially and one hundred percent true was that Professor Lupin was leaving, which saddened Oliver, as Lupin had been a good teacher with a lot to offer the students. Oliver certainly felt he'd learned an immense amount in the past year from the kindly professor, and was always going to remember when he'd met the professor on the train after his first Dementor experience.

Following breakfast, Oliver changed clothes and wasted no time in making his way out onto the sun splashed grounds. He hurried on to Hogsmeade, eager to meet up with Audrey.

* * *

Oliver matched Audrey's lazy pace as they meandered past the various shops, then later to the grassy paths nearby the town, the hot afternoon sun beating down on them. For the first time since before New Year's, Oliver finally felt like he was with the "real" Audrey again. This was the girl he'd developed such strong feelings for, the girl he wanted friendship (and more) with. And _this_ was the girl he felt so connected to.

They spent almost the entire afternoon talking about anything and everything. They of course speculated at length about all the Sirius Black and werewolf business, in which Audrey confirmed the story that Snape had told the students that Lupin was in fact a werewolf. Though the idea made her uncomfortable and she disliked the idea of a werewolf teaching, she grudgingly admitted he wasn't half bad and it hadn't seemed to affect his work.

"Half-bad?" Oliver raised his eyebrow. "He was quite _excellent_."

"Compared to what?" Audrey shrugged. "That ponce Lockhart we suffered with last year? I can agree on that count. Still, it's not like he was _outstanding _or anything."

He rolled his eyes and agreed to disagree.

After a short trip to Zonko's which, as usual, was unbearably crowded, they stopped at Honeyduke's and then moved on to the ice cream shop down the street. Oliver bought them both cones and they took turns talking in between enjoying them at the nearest shaded picnic table. He told her all about his family and then listened patiently while she struggled to tell him about hers.

"Look," she sighed. "I… I don't share this stuff with anyone. I've kind of become used to… hiding it all, not letting it touch me. I don't know how much I'll be able to tell you."

"It's alright," he encouraged. "I'm not going anywhere."

At his smile, she softened slightly but ate some more of her ice cream before she spoke again.

"The first thing you need to understand is that my brother, Kerrick, is seven years older than me. He was 'planned' and I was not. He is _the_ model of a perfect, pureblood son - he is everything my parents could ever hope for. He's good at everything he does, he got top marks when he was in Hogwarts, and immediately after graduation, he was offered a prestigious internship at the top magical hospital in London."

Oliver finished his cone and then retrieved napkins for Audrey as the remaining ice cream in her cone had begun to drip. She cleaned up her mess and hastily licked up the drips on her hand, finishing her own cone before continuing.

"Anyways, my brother ended up marrying a girl from another extremely wealthy pureblood family, and they moved to America where he is now _head_ of a hospital." She sighed. "When my mother was pregnant with me, it was a surprise – an unwanted one, especially once they found out I was a girl. They already had their heir, I was just messing things up – _costing them hard earned Galleons_, as my father used to say."

Her features darkened and Oliver's shoulders sagged in sympathy. He didn't know what to say; his family was warm and supportive and always had been. He couldn't imagine living his whole life knowing he was unwanted.

"Look, the short version is that pretty well from as early as I can remember, all I wanted was to please my parents and prove I wasn't a mistake. When they separated, I believed for a long time that it was my fault – that I hadn't been good enough." She paused, her eyes shining. "I can't begin to tell you how lonely it was, with a brother so far away from me in age then distance, parents who left me with the house keeper or on my own instead of bothering to take care of me themselves."

He reached out and rubbed her shoulder, hoping to offer some comfort.

She sniffed and rubbed her sleeve swiftly across her eyes. "Let's not talk about this anymore today, alright? Another time."

He nodded – she'd already opened up far more than he expected, he wasn't about to push her. He took her hand and helped her off of the bench and didn't let go as they continued walking and talking in hot afternoon sun.

* * *

Much later when he was in bed and trying to sleep, his thoughts returned to the moment at the picnic table with Audrey. Though she hadn't said much, the pain in her voice spoke volumes and he felt like he had a much clearer picture of her than he'd had in months.

Having lived so many years under cold and ignorant parents, it suddenly made sense why she'd made a reputation for herself at Hogwarts for being brazen and attention-seeking. Her stubborn streak, need to retaliate, her competitiveness, hot-headed decision making, and tendency to do everything full steam all went hand in hand. It didn't _excuse_ her past actions, merely helped him understand finally where she was coming from a little bit.

He shifted onto his side, thoughtfully staring at the fabric of his bed curtains. It felt good to finally understand her, or at least part of what made her the way she was. She wasn't perfect – nobody was. But she was finally trying, finally opening up. She wasn't going to change overnight – he knew there'd be plenty of arguments in his future with her – but she'd already taken leaps and bounds. For now, that was enough.

* * *

**A/n:** Bit of a shorter chapter, as will be the final one, but together they made it too long. One more folks, and that's it… Thank you for reading!


	34. Last Last Day Ever

**A/n:** At the end of POA, it says that exam results came on the last day of term, so that's what I'm going with. I'm positive in HBP it isn't until mid to late summer that they get their OWL results, but since I'm following POA canon, I wrote it as such.

This is IT folks! The conclusion. After way too many years and an incredible amount of hours writing and especially rewriting this beast, here is the last chapter. Thank to _ANYONE_ who read this far – you are loved!

* * *

**Chapter 34 - Last Last Day Ever  
**

On the last day of term, the students received their final marks. Oliver was in the Common Room, envelope in hand and had yet to open it. In his other hand was another envelope which he also couldn't quite bring himself to open. He was dreading seeing how many NEWTs he did (or didn't) receive and feared the reply that the other envelope might hold.

He was startled by the twins whooping and clapping respectively.

"Three!" shouted Fred. "That's better than I thought!"

George walloped him on the back, grinning. "All that hard work paid off."

Angelina snorted. "What hard work?"

Fred pretended to be momentarily offended, but George laughed. "Exactly."

While George lamented that he'd narrowly missed an OWL in Potions, he was certain he wasn't going to bother trying to take Potions at a NEWT level so it didn't matter. Fred was glad to have earned an OWL in Transfiguration, the one class he claimed he wouldn't risk messing around in, lest he incur McGonagall's wrath.

It wasn't until Katie suggested that they head to breakfast when they noticed Oliver hunched up in the far corner by the window, envelope clutched in each hand, mouth set in a grim line. Alicia and Angelina exchanged concerned looks.

"Oliver?" Lee asked. "Everything alright?"

The Gryffindor Captain swallowed but otherwise didn't reply. Lee glanced at the twins who waved for the others to go on and they'd catch up. Fred approached and knelt beside his friend while George hung back.

"What happened? Did you do badly?" Fred questioned softly.

Oliver reluctantly raised his eyes. "I can't open them. I… I woke up at five and they were on my night stand. I haven't been able to… I can't…"

"Them?"

"Remember when I made that list of teams and mailed out the applications?" Oliver gestured with the envelope in his left hand. "I got one back."

"Who?"

"Puddlemere."

"Well that's good, right? They were at the top of your list."

Oliver nodded once and dropped his gaze to the pair of envelopes again.

"Mate, what're you so afraid of? They're just bits of paper with numbers and words."

_I'm afraid of failing,_ thought Oliver. _Of not – of _never _being good enough._

Fred sighed. "Would it help if I opened them?"

"Yes," Oliver mumbled.

"Preference?"

He shook his head.

Fred grabbed the envelope that held Oliver's NEWTs results first. As he tore open the envelope he said, "You know, you do this every bloody year. You get yourself all in a twist over some examination marks and – "

"These are _NEWTs!_" Oliver cut in sharply. "This can make or _break_ me, mate!"

"I get that Oliver, really, but," Fred shook his head. "You are _way_ too hard on yourself. You always pass – you always do great. Look at George and me – we scraped up a healthy 3 OWLs each and you don't see us crying, do you? No, we're bloody celebrating!"

This earned a small smile from Oliver, so Fred clapped him heartily on his shoulder as he scanned his friend's examination results. "See, that's the spirit. Lighten up, my friend. A 'T' in Transfiguration does not a Quidditch star break."

"_What_!" Oliver sat up and snatched the paper from Fred's hands. He was immediately relieved to see no T's or D's, and that he had, in fact, earned himself an E in Transfiguration, as well as several other subjects – _including Potions_.

He jumped up so fast he knocked Fred over and nearly cracked his head on the window sill. Fred cursed but Oliver didn't take notice as he hurried over to George and shouted that he'd received a NEWT in Potions! He couldn't wait to tell the rest of his friends, especially Audrey. The twins congratulated him on his truly stellar results: Oliver had earned himself a total of nine NEWTs, though he got a Poor in History of Magic. For a couple minutes he was so excited and relieved at his NEWT results, he completely forgot about the other envelope, now in Fred's hands.

The smile slid off his face instantly.

"Even if they say no, you did send out four other applications," George reminded him warningly, sensing his friend's perfectionist fears on the rise again. "This isn't the end-all-beat-all."

"Open it," Oliver murmured.

Fred did so and for a couple seconds as he read, his face was emotionless and Oliver felt his heart thudding hard in his chest. His mouth was abruptly dry and his euphoria over his NEWTs already dissipated. It wasn't the end, of course, if they said no, he knew that, he _knew_ that… then why did just the mere thought of rejection already make him feel stiff with fear?

"Oliver," Fred looked up and Oliver realized he was holding his breath. "They said _yes_."

He stared.

"Did you hear me?" Fred thrust the letter at Oliver.

He scanned the first few lines, sure he'd heard wrong, but he saw _Congratulations_ and _a wonderful addition to our team_ and _contact us upon the completion of your final year at Hogwarts_ and a very big number that was apparently his starting salary. His knees felt buttery and all he could think was,

_I did it._

* * *

Though he felt like his day could not get any better, it somehow did. Gryffindor was awarded the House Cup for the third year in a row and the Hall was decorated accordingly. Though Percy tried to boast about how he'd received top NEWTs in everything, Oliver was too happy with own success to do much of anything except grin and offer him congratulations. This seemed to stun Percy a bit who'd clearly been expecting some form of their usual snarky exchanges, but proceeded to genuinely, if rather pompously, congratulate Oliver in turn on his NEWTs and the acceptance letter from the Puddlemere United Quidditch team.

Katie and Denise had both earned themselves several NEWTs each as well, and they all congratulated one another. Denise had received top marks in Herbology and had already applied to St. Mungo's for an internship. Katie had yet to decide what she was going to do, but was simply overjoyed at her good marks. George kissed her cheek as she beamed happily.

The end of term feast was spectacular and like most every other student, Oliver nearly ate himself sick. As the chatter continued around him, he took a moment and reflected on the year he'd had, on all the ups and downs. He leaned sideways and was able to see Audrey through the throngs of students and she was talking animatedly with her red-haired friend. He smiled and let his eyes wander around the Hall. He revelled in the warmth and the noise, already feeling nostalgic. This was his last end of term feast ever, the last time he was to sit at the Gryffindor table, with all his fellow students, gazing up at the full Head Table, Dumbledore in the center, silvery beard shining…

As if he knew the Gryffindor was looking at that moment, Dumbledore caught his gaze and gave him a smile and a tip of his head. Oliver returned the gesture and returned to the conversation between his friends.

* * *

Oliver was on his way to the train station with the other students when Professor McGonagall pulled him aside for a word.

"I've just heard the news," she said. "Congratulations on not only your marks, but also on the acceptance letter from Puddlemere."

"Thank you Professor," he grinned.

A funny glint came over her eyes about then and he realized with a start it was tears.

"You know Wood," she cleared her throat though it didn't completely remove the emotional quiver. "I don't pick favourite students. If I did, you can be certain you'd be one of them. I'm sorry to see you go."

Though he generally wasn't one for hugs and he knew Professor McGonagall absolutely wasn't, that didn't stop him from suddenly embracing her. She stiffened instantly.

"Thank you for _everything_, Professor," he said as she awkwardly patted his back. "I'm going to miss this place and the teachers in it terribly." He pulled back and noted how he was a bit taller than she was. He briefly recalled being that skinny little first year, when she'd seemed to absolutely tower over him and he didn't think anyone could be that tall (that'd been excluding Hagrid of course).

"Yes, well," she brushed at her dress with her hands and cleared her throat again. "Goodbye then. And good luck. I'll be tracking your career closely." Her voice was stern and curt again, but Oliver could feel the affection beneath the tone.

He bid her a fond goodbye and left for the train.

* * *

At the station, he was just about to climb aboard when Audrey came beside him, tapping him on the shoulder. He waved for his friends to find them a good compartment and turned to her.

"Alright?"

She nodded. "Alright. You?"

He exhaled and looked up at the castle in the distance. "It's hard – leaving and knowing I'm not coming back. But it's only going to get better from here." He returned his gaze to hers. "You'll keep in touch during your last year?"

"Of course," she answered. "I need you to send me all your seventh year notes, after all, save me some work."

He laughed. "Not a chance. I slaved for hours to get the marks I got!"

"_Slaved_ - don' t exaggerate."

The train whistle sounded to warn the last call for passengers.

"You better hurry and get on," he said and she walked backwards away from him towards the train cars farther down.

"Good luck with Puddlemere!"

"Good luck with your seventh year!" he called, then added, "I'll see you?"

She beamed at him. "You can count on it."

**-THE END-**

* * *

**A/n:** I've always imagined McGonagall and Oliver had bit more of a special teacher/student relationship and I wanted to show that throughout the story in their little moments together, as well as their little goodbye. :)

THANK YOU to every single person who ever read this story before, and _especially _after, this massive rewrite. It has been more appreciated than you'll ever know. Reviews are like oxygen!

Long live Harry Potter, and see you at the Deathly Hallows (Part 2) premiere. ;)


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